


Fiction

by TracedInAir



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: Akko's fanfic is Very Bad, Angst, Animator Akko because I love that idea so much, Comedy, F/F, Fanfic Writers AU, Fluff, Humour, I fully intend for ff.net veterans to get full on war flashbacks at this, Slow Burn, University AU, You thirsty hoes, expecting this one to be a very longboi, like SLOWWWWW burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 63,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27088348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TracedInAir/pseuds/TracedInAir
Summary: When Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot (the greatest magical girl anime to ever exist, obviously), was cancelled after four seasons, young Atsuko Kagari wasn't going to take that lying down. If Shiny Studios weren't gonna continue the story, then it was up to her to do it, through the magic of fan fiction!Unfortunately, Akko is not very good at writing fanfic. Even more unfortunately, this fact was eventually noticed by LadyBeatrice, the most popular author in the entire Shiny Chariot fandom. Although if you ask Akko, her fics kinda suck anyway. Thus begins a mighty flamewar and a rivalry for the ages, which will definitely not develop into anything more. After all, what are the chances that they just happen to be going to the same university?[Alternatively; Akko and Diana both write really bad anime fanfic and just happen to be going to the same university]
Relationships: Diana Cavendish/Atsuko "Akko" Kagari, background Frank/Lotte, maybe some others idk I'll update if they happen
Comments: 775
Kudos: 414
Collections: Diakko Fics w/ AU's, Diakko favorites





	1. Unconstructive Criticism

Rating: General Audiences

 **Archive Warning** : **Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings**

Category: F/F

Fandom: Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot

Relationship: Chariot/Croix

Characters: Chariot, Croix, Original Characters

Additional Tags: Adventure, Comedy, Fluff, Magic!, I love this anime so much and I always will, a believing heart is your magic!

Language: English

Published: 2014-08-28 Updated: 2019-10-01 Words: 42069 Chapters: 113/? Comments: 228 Kudos: 5 Bookmarks: 1 Hits: 312

**_A Witch’s Adventure!_ **

BelievingHeart625

 _ Chapter 113 _ **_:_ ** _Akko’s New Friend!_

Notes: 

_Sorry for the delay, but I’ve finished moving, and I’m loving my new university! Regular updates from now on! Thank you to everyone who left such nice comments on the last chapter!! This one has a new character, I hope you like her! She’s based on my friend Haltija! Please say hi and be friendly!_

_As always, Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot belongs to Hokuto Shichisei and to Shiny Studios! I don't own it, or I'd make a damn fifth season already!_

Akko run into the cafeteria to talk to Chariot. “Chariot! Meet my new friend!”

Chariot looked at Akko, her mouth making a big ‘o’ in shock, “you have a new friend?”

“Yes, I have a new friend! Would you like to meet her?” Akko exclaimed loudly.

“Yes, Akko, I would love to meet your friend!” Chariot smiled happily at her best friend Akko.

A shy girl walked into the cafeteria next to Akko. She had glasses and freckles and orange hair. “Hi, I’m Jans,” she mumbled to Chariot. **[A/N: Haltija this is you!]** She looked nervous to be meeting such an amazing witch, Chariot could tell.

“You don’t need to be nervous, Jans,” Chariot reached out her hand, “A friend of Akko’s is a friend of mine! After all, Akko is my very best friend!”

“Yeah!” Akko shouted. “I’m sure we’ll all be good friends in no time.”

“I hope so,” Jans smiled at Akko and her new friend Chariot. Akko already knew this was gonna be a great day!

Then an explosion happened outside and they all ran out and saw there was a giant dragon attacking the school!

“Akko! I need you and Haltija to help me!”

“OK!” Akko exclaimed, turning to Jans to encourage her. “Do you believe in your believing heart?”

“I don’t know,” Jans cried, looking down, “The dragon’s so scary!”

Then Chariot did something amazing! She raised the Shiny Rod into the air, and green magic swirled around her, and her outfit transformed into her white witch outfit!

“He doesn’t scare me!” Chariot shouted and jumped onto the Shiny Balai to go fight the dragon.

“Me neither!” Akko shouted and jumped onto the Shiny Hoki to follow her.

Seeing the two brave witches fighting together inspired Lotte so much that she yelled, “I DO believe! I believe in you Akko and Chariot!”

With the power of Jans’ belief Akko and Chariot were able to prepare the Shiny Arc together!

“Noctu Orfei Aude Fraetor!” Chariot screamed, raising the bow.

“Anata no risō-tekina basho o mezashite doryoku suru!” **[A/N: This is a translation of “strive for your ideal place!”]** Akko screamed, drawing the string back with her.

“Shiny!!! Arc!!!” They both screamed.

The bow of light fired, and the arrow hit the dragon, and it blew up! The day was saved!!

“Thank you Akko! And thank you Jans!” Chariot celebrated. “I know I can always count on you!”

“Of course you can!” Akko yelled. “Because we have a believing hearts! And a believing heart-”

“Is your magic!”

Notes: 

_Thanks for reading!! Don’t forget to comment your favourite bits! And I hope you all liked meeting Haltija! I mean, Jans! ;)_

_And always remember, a believing heart is your magic!_

* * *

Aaand post!

Akko slumped back into her chair, satisfied. Another chapter finished, and she’d managed to introduce Lotte’s character seamlessly!

Wait.

Akko clicked on the published chapter, skimming down it quickly. Kuso, she’d accidentally referred to Jans as Lotte once. Lotte had specifically asked her not to do that! And after she’d left such nice comments on the first hundred and twelve chapters!

Akko needed to edit quickly, she couldn’t leave it up where Lotte could see her mistake. She scrolled down the page, dragging her mouse over Lotte’s name and replacing it with Jans. Phew!

Wait, that wasn’t where that sentence had ended previously…

Akko realised in horror that she’d just deleted half of the chapter.

Kuso! She had to go and paste it back in again. But wait, if she did that, then it’d undo the name change! Every second she left not hitting ‘Update’ was a second that Lotte could be clicking on her fic and seeing Akko’s screw up.

Nothing for it, she’d have to publish as is, hope no one saw the chapter with half the text missing, then quickly edit it back to normal. Easy, right?

Approximately ten minutes later, Akko had uploaded the chapter with every line duplicated, uploaded the chapter three times, and for one horrifying moment thought she’d deleted her fic entirely. “Please, Kami-sama, I don’t ask for much, honest, just work, thanks,” Akko rambled as she shut her eyes and pressed _Update_ again.

Her eyes opened.

The chapter looked fine.

She’d even fixed Lotte’s name!

…Wait, Chariot called Jans “Haltija” in the middle of the chapter. Dammit, why was she such a _screw-up!?_ More to the point, Akko was pretty sure if she tried to delve into the black magic of AO3’s update system _again,_ only catastrophe awaited. She’d just have to hope no one noticed.

Akko hopped onto her bed, her laptop landing next to her with a bounce. 11.37 pm. Too late to go ask Lotte to hang, but she wasn’t that tired. Besides, her first lecture was at ten tomorrow, so she could go to sleep around one or two and still get the full eight hours, right?

Halfway between riding the high of another successful chapter and the shame of having messed up Lotte’s character’s name _twice,_ Akko decided to take her mind off things the only way she knew how.

She scrolled to the top of her fic, clicked to the “Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot” list, and applied her filters. Her own fic was at the top of course, aaaand-

Nothing new. The most recent fic on the list was from July.

Akko slumped back, staring at the ceiling in despair. Did Lotte have _any_ idea how lucky she was that NightFall was the third most popular fandom on the site? Akko wondered how it would feel to have her beloved fandom be _that_ active once more. Leisurely perusing the dozens of new fics each day as if it was a fancy banquet, enjoying the many samples of everything to her taste, rather than having to worry about broadening her filters just to be able to read _something_ new.

But then it’s not like reading Angst was gonna make her any _less_ upset than she was right now.

Ah well, at least she could go re-read some old favourites. Or maybe go for a rewatch? It’d been a whole month since she’d last seen season 2, the DVD was round here somewhere… 

* * *

Akko did not sleep for eight hours that night.

* * *

Akko stumbled into class, wincing at the way all eyes turned to her in silent judgement as she tried to sidle inconspicuously into the room at 10.17 am. Damn Lecture Hall LN-AN 207 and its lack of a side entrance! She quickly mumbled an apology and dashed to an empty spot nearby, opening her bag and— _Kuso! —_ she forgot her laptop. No wonder her bag felt so light. Weird that she hadn’t noticed, but then her sleep addled brain had forgotten her _jacket_ too and she’d already been running so late that she had to just walk through anyway and wow October in England was actually kinda chilly and then she’d forgotten that it was Wednesday not Thursday and had nearly walked into Computer Lab LN-4 for the _Intro to Computer Animation_ class tomorrow then had to dash across campus just to get to _this_ class on _Visual Narrative_ and—

“Hey.” Akko turned to the girl sitting behind her. “Can I borrow some paper? I forgot my laptop.”

The girl shrugged, tearing a page from her book and passing it to Akko. At least she always had a pencil on her.

… 

Why wasn’t her pencil in her pocket?

Akko nearly screamed.

* * *

It turned out her pencil was actually in her other pocket. Unfortunately she only realised that after half an hour of staring at lecture slides with her eyes glazing over, hunched over a single blank sheet of paper.

The lecturer had definitely noticed. Professor Finnelan’s eyes turned hard every time they drifted over to Akko’s seat, but thankfully she hadn’t interrupted herself to give Akko a more individually focused lecture.

Yet.

Akko still flushed thinking of that time in the first week where she’d seen Akko doodling in her notebook and informed her that _Intro to 2D Animation_ was in three hours time, thank you very much. This had led to Akko deciding not to bring her notebook and just taking what few notes she did on her laptop and, really, Professor Finnelan only had herself to blame for the fact Akko was in this predicament in the first place, if you thought about it.

The hour mark arrived. Finnelan overran, _again,_ and they were finally allowed to take a five minute break. Akko stretched a little, not feeling too stiff due to having ran half the way to class in the first place, and pulled out her phone.

She skimmed through Twitter. Nothing new, Boris still a prick. Her phone buzzed, a dropdown appeared indicating she’d received a new email from AO3. Probably Lotte’s review! Or maybe someone else! Or even another kudos!

Akko double tapped with glee, discovering that her second guess was right.

Unfortunately.

**Lady Beatrice** left the following comment on **_A Witch’s Adventure :_ **

This is dreadful.

I have written hundreds of thousands of words for Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot, and yet I can scarcely find them when it comes to describing my utter disdain for this piece.

To begin, you tagged your work as “Chariot/Croix,” yet Croix features in barely a quarter of the chapters, and in those serves a completely secondary role to Chariot and your original “character.” What token gestures you made to refer to any kind of romance between the two is completely negated by your obvious dislike for Croix as a character, to the point where it almost appears that you would rather join the throngs of “Chariot/Reader” works. Either remove the tag, or make some kind of an effort to actually represent the relationship, I don’t care which.

Note that I used quotations when referring to your original “character.” This is because the “character” could scarcely be more obvious a self-insert short of you literally giving her your own name. Usually, I would hesitate to use the term “Mary Sue,” as it is a gendered term deliberately used to demean the work of young women in the mainstream pop cultural consciousness. However, I have _no_ such compunctions when it comes to your character of Akko, as she is possibly the most blatant example I have ever seen.

I do not know which is more depressing, that you have written yourself to have absolutely no flaws and be “Chariot’s best friend,” or that you constantly give yourself character traits to make you more alike to Chariot. From her clumsiness—imitating Chariot’s behaviour in the first two seasons—to her identical list of abilities (criminal, in a universe with so many creative powers to draw from), and even to the fact “Akko’s” repeated use of gratuitous Japanese mimics Chariot’s overuse of French in her custom spells.

That said, I will, at the very least, credit you on your excellent Japanese. Given the above, I assume it is in fact your first language, but considering the quality of your fan fiction as a whole I wouldn’t put it past you to fail with even your own native tongue.

This is to say nothing of your myriad of other mistakes. In just this chapter, you repeatedly confuse your new character’s name with the screen name of the friend you based her on. And might I just say if I were said friend, I would be extremely offended to be associated with this work in any capacity, never mind in such a pathetic manner. Furthermore, your use of French is consistently dreadful, your constant mid-chapter author’s notes are laughable, and your grammar is simply atrocious.

In conclusion, either spend the necessary time and effort to improve your craft, or move to another fandom. I love Shiny Chariot too much to see it tainted by work such as yours.

Posted: 2019-10-02 11:03:17 GMT (0000)

Akko’s mind went blank as she read and re-read the message. She noted idly that class had restarted. Professor Finnelan’s lecture droned on in the background, completely tuned out by the fog in her brain as she read LadyBeatrice’s comment for the sixth time. Or was it seventh. Did it matter.

 _Kagari_ —Akko focused on the paragraph about her character, reading it over and over— _Kagari!_ —Each time she looked at it she could feel the anxiety bubbling in her gut, like watching a horror movie where she knew the ending but couldn’t tear her eyes—

_“Kagari!”_

Akko snapped up from her phone. Professor Finnelan was glaring at her.

“I asked you a question, but you seemed more engaged with whatever it is that’s on your phone. Would you care to share with the class what had you so enthralled?” Finnelan asked, causing a few chuckles to ripple out through the class. “Or perhaps, would you like to share your thoughts on how this clip conveys the emotion of the character, like I asked?”

Akko’s eyes drifted over to the screen, still in a haze. “He’s smiling.”

“How astute,” Finnelan commented drily. “Would you care to elaborate? What is it about this man’s emotion that is being communicated through the medium of animation that could not be communicated if it was a still image?”

“It’s… more dynamic…” Akko mumbled.

“Such incisive commentary. Walt Disney himself couldn’t have said it better.” She turned her gaze off Akko. “Would anybody _else_ like to offer a more detailed answer?”

A few hands went up, some guy a few rows over answered but Akko wasn’t listening, her eyes falling once again to _“This is dreadful.”_

“Professor,” Akko squeaked out weakly. “I gotta go, sorry. Feeling kinda sick.”

“While I’m sure we will all miss your genius observations, don’t allow me to keep you.” Finnelan waved her hand dismissively. “Off you go now. Do remember to start your assignment, it’s due in week five.”

“Yes, Professor,” Akko mumbled again, lifting her bag and trudging towards the exit with her head down.

* * *

Her sudden exit left Akko with one immediate problem: where to go. She didn’t want to just sit on a bench moping, not least in case one of her fellow students or—Kami-sama forbid— _Finnelan_ saw her there.

She could just go back to her room, of course, but there was something about moping in bed over a mean comment on the internet that pricked at her pride. Silly, she’d already bailed out of a lecture because she was moping over a mean internet comment, but there was something about the idea of curling up in bed before midday that seemed like a bridge too far.

Maybe it was just cause she knew that if she was away from any prying eyes, she really _would_ start crying. Honestly it was weird that she hadn’t already.

Akko trudged through campus, eyes towards the ground. Thankfully it was mostly empty, half an hour at least before lectures let out and the central square filled with students rushing to their next class. Maybe she could go get lunch early? She’d been hoping to bump into someone at Supernova, but right now the concept of a completely empty bar was significantly more appealing. Maybe she could even day drink, wouldn’t _that_ be a laugh.

She stumbled through the doors of the Supernova Bar, and nearly crashed straight into Amanda as she did so. So much for completely empty.

“Yo watch where you’re- oh, hey Akko!” Amanda immediately whiplashed into a grin, raising her hand for a high five.

Akko half-heartedly raised her own, barely even making a smack as her hand hit limply off Amanda’s. “Hey.”

Amanda’s eyebrows raised. “You alright dude? Not looking yourself.”

“We’ve met twice,” Akko mumbled as Amanda turned round to follow her back into the bar.

“Yeah, and the first time you challenged me to a race around the lake then shoved me in when I was about to win.” Amanda laughed at the memory.

“Huh, Lotte told me you tripped and dragged me when you fell,” Akko said.

“Details, details. Not like either of us were sober enough to remember.” Amanda waved her off. “Seriously though, not like you to be this down. You don’t gotta talk about it if you just wanna stew or whatever.”

Akko shrugged, settling onto a couch. “Someone was shitty to me on the internet, no big deal.”

“OK it _clearly_ is, but I’ll drop it.” Amanda flung herself down next to her. “Normally I’d offer to fight whoever it was, but if throwing hands online was possible I’d be, like, _permanently_ in a scrap, you get me?”

“Guess we gotta be grateful for small miracles,” Akko said.

“Wow, such assertions on my character.” Amanda pressed a hand to her chest, wounded. “And you were the one who was so cruelly saying we were only mere acquaintances just moments ago.”

Akko side-eyed her. “Fishing for compliments, eh Amanda? Want me to admit we’re totally best friends forever?”

“If you don’t mind.” Amanda grinned, wrapping her arm around Akko’s shoulder. “Anyways, you wanna grab a bite? I’m guessing you didn’t just come in here on the off-chance of my phenomenal company.”

“Yeah, was gonna grab myself some chicken wings or something,” Akko said with a shrug, going to stand.

“Aight, you want barbecue or spicy?” Amanda asked, standing ahead of her.

Akko narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure I can tell the bartender what I want myself, when I pay for my own lunch, Amanda.”

“The hell you will.” Amanda set a hand on Akko’s shoulder, returning her to her seat. “What drink you want? I can see if they got sake.”

Akko shook her head. “Nah, lecture at two. Just grab me a Coke or something.”

“Aye aye.” Amanda saluted, heading to the bar. The girl on till was fairly pretty, and Amanda immediately propped an elbow on the bar, leaning on her hand with a smirk as she ordered for the two of them. Akko rolled her eyes, silently blessing whatever form of bro code it was that Amanda operated on which prevented her from hitting on Akko in the same way.

 _That_ was one of the weirder things about being in England, how casual people were about the whole gay thing. Sure, Akko’s bisexuality was no secret to either her parents or the couple of friends she had back home but it just wasn’t… talked about. It never came up. It very _pointedly_ never came up. The thought of so casually making bedroom eyes at a pretty girl, like Amanda was doing right now, still felt incredibly alien to Akko. The fear of rejection was bad enough with boys, never mind the fear that a girl might view her with revulsion for even asking in the first place.

The girl behind the till giggled at something Amanda said, and Akko couldn’t help but think of all of those cute fanfics she’d read where Chariot was the pretty barista or bartender or whatever, and Croix the lonely recluse who fell for her.

She pulled out her phone again.

_This is dreadful._

She knew she shouldn’t look. It hurt her every time she did.

_This is dreadful._

Why was she so drawn to it? Was it like that call of the void thing? The way you couldn’t help but imagine jumping when you stood upon a precipice. Akko’s parents always told the story of how she, at age two, had run and stomped around the reinforced glass of an observation tower, jumping over and over upon the invisible plane separating her from a plummet to Tokyo’s streets.

_This is dreadful._

“One Coke, for the lady in the anime shirt.” Amanda sat down opposite her this time, dropping the can in front of Akko. “Avery said our food should be five minutes or so.”

“Avery?” Akko snapped up from her phone, as if she’d been looking at something she shouldn’t have.

Amanda gestured over her shoulder towards the bar, where the pretty serving girl was looking towards their table. “She’s looking, right?”

“We’re the only ones in, Amanda,” Akko said.

“That’s not a no,” Amanda said, grinning.

Akko didn’t grin back, letting her eyes drift back to her phone.

“Yo.” Amanda’s fingers snapped in front of her face. “Eyes up, Akko. Every time you look at that screen you look more and more like shit, y’know?”

“Wow, okay boomer.” Akko laughed, trying to deflect.

“Good one, but I’m not buying it,” Amanda said. “You’re looking at whatever shitty message you got that’s put you in a funk, right?”

“…Yeah.” Akko conceded.

Amanda’s smile turned sympathetic. “Y’know they call that ‘digital self harm.’ It’s a whole thing, people can’t stop looking at mean comments online. Some kinda fascination to it.”

“Didn’t know it had a name,” Akko said, not meeting Amanda’s eyes but not looking at her phone either.

“For some folks it gets so bad they’ll do stuff like, say, a gay person looking up ultra-Christian Facebook groups talking about how we’re all gonna burn in hell or whatever.” Amanda trailed off meaningfully. “There’s something in your brain that makes you think that stuff that hurts you is more true. It’s not.”

Akko’s Coke opened with a hiss. “Thanks, Amanda.” God that sounded so hollow. She looked up, offering Amanda a smile to try and indicate that her appreciation was more genuine than her crappy empty voice was making it sound.

“No bother, you’d do the same.” Amanda shrugged.

“Just gonna say again, this is the third time we’ve met,” Akko said.

“Am I wrong?”

“That I’d open up to you about some of my deepest traumas just to help cheer you up cause you were upset?” Akko said, raising an eyebrow.

“Wow if you think _that_ was a deep trauma, wait til I start talking about my mom!” Amanda laughed loudly.

“Oof,” Akko said, because really, what could she say to that?

“Sorry, I’m making this more awkward aren’t I?” Amanda offered apologetically.

“It’s fine,” Akko said. “Just wish I wasn’t in such a mess over someone insulting my wri- insulting me.”

“Order twelve!” came a call from elsewhere in the room.

“One sec.” Amanda hopped up.

Akko let her gaze wander around the bar. It was pretty cozy, covered in couches and huge tables and booths aimed to accommodate the large crowds that students usually gathered in. Hell, it was in that booth right over there that she’d first met Amanda. She’d been sitting with AnimeSoc at a Freshers’ Week night out, trying to chat to the small German girl next to her when a loud American had practically jumped onto the table, informed her ,“Conz don’t talk, but she likes them mecha shows, if that’s what you’re askin’,” and finished downing her pint. All in roughly one motion.

Her plate of wings landed in front of her with a clatter, Amanda diving onto the couch already halfway through a mouthful of burger. “Sho-” she swallowed, “like I was sayin’. If someone’s being a dickhead, it don’t make what they said more true just cause it upset you, alright? Way I see it, you got two plays.”

She raised a fry, gesticulating at the air. “Option one, you delete the message, block ‘em, go back to your merry weirdo-free life. Option _two…”_ She pointed the fry in another arbitrary direction. “You do what I did with my mom.”

“Which is?” Akko could probably guess.

“Nuclear option. Gun to a knife fight. You one up ‘em with the nastiest, pettiest, _bitchiest_ message you got in you.” Amanda’s grin turned savage.

Akko’s answering grin was every bit the same. “Hell yeah.” She whipped out her phone again.

“Woo! Get ‘em!” Amanda cheered as Akko’s finger darted across the touchscreen.

Reply to **_LadyBeatrice :_**

To begin, fuck you!


	2. Lady Beatrice, Pt 1

“Now, can anyone tell me which disease is most likely to be the next global epidemic?” Professor Badcock asked the class, looking directly at Diana as she did so. Diana kept her hand down. She knew the answer, of course, but she’d already answered the last three questions, and honestly Medical Sociology wasn’t _that_ hard. Her classmates could take the reins on this one.

Silence rang out.

“Anyone?” Badcock looked around. “No one’s going to laugh at you if you’re wrong.”

“Bubonic plague?” Asked a deep male voice from somewhere behind Diana. A few others giggled in response.

“Unlikely,” Badcock said, glaring at those laughing. “However there _have_ been outbreaks in Madagascar, including one as recent as 2017 which led to the deaths of over 200. A sobering reminder of the threat posed by even diseases we believe defeated. Anybody else?”

“AIDS?” A girl a few seats to Diana’s left asked.

Badcock nodded slightly. “Most would argue that it already counts as one. So not the answer I was looking for, but a good one nonetheless.” Badcock reached into a tin of chocolates on her desk and set one in front of the girl, who unwrapped it with a smile. “One more answer…?”

Badcock looked around the room, and Diana sighed to herself, raising her hand.

“Yes, Miss…?”

“Cavendish,” Diana said. “The question is poorly formed, there is no ‘one’ disease which is most likely to be the next epidemic. Whichever disease it will be almost certainly does not yet exist, although most research predicts that the next major epidemic will likely be a mutated strain of an RNA virus, such as influenza, coronavirus, or ebolavirus.”

“Correct on all counts.” Badcock nodded appreciatively, already grabbing a chocolate for Diana. “It was, in fact, a trick question, as young Miss Cavendish rightly pointed out. Actually, if you don’t mind my asking, any relation?”

“Yes, Bernadette Cavendish was my mother.” Diana nodded, not touching her chocolate.

“Ah yes, I see it,” Professor Badcock said, gesturing at her head. “The hair. Remarkable woman, I had the privilege of attending a seminar of hers, my, it must have been fifteen years ago now.”

Diana remained silent.

“Anyway.” Badcock turned back to the class. “The one thing that unites all potential epidemics is that we are _woefully_ underprepared to face them. The repeated near misses outside of Africa with regards to ebola prove that. And don’t think these afflictions are confined to the so-called ‘developing world!’ The swine flu epidemic of 2009 showed well enough that-”

Diana tried not to tune out the lecture. Yes, it _was_ all information she was familiar with, but hearing it explained by an expert _should_ have been beneficial. Even if it was yet another expert who fell over themselves to mention her mother or grandmother as soon as they saw the famous Cavendish hair.

Since when had the mere mention of her mother turned Diana’s thoughts to such bitterness?

Hm, good turn of phrase. She made a mental note to write it down after the lecture. Of course, she _could_ just jot it down in a corner now, but her lecture notes were sacred, and not to be sullied by fan fiction draft ideas. Never mind the risk of someone glancing over her shoulder to see her writing it… 

The lecture continued. Diana answered five more questions, ending up with a veritable stack of chocolates on her desk. She slipped them into her bag as the clock ticked over to midday. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do with them, truth be told. Initially she just threw them all into a kitchen cupboard, but Barbara had asked her not to since she was trying to watch her figure and chocolate was a particular weakness of hers.

Maybe she could have just given them out to her classmates, but frankly, if they’d wanted to receive Professor Badcock’s reward chocolate, then they could have just done the required reading like Diana had. It wasn’t like she didn’t leave them with the opportunity.

Diana settled into the queue at the Polaris cafe, her eyes dropping from the soft white and light blue decor as she switched her phone on. Naturally, it buzzed repeatedly as a dozen notifications hit her at once. Better than having it go off during the lecture, but still irritating.

She skimmed through, taking a step forward as the queue moved. An email with a timetable update; Hannah informing her she would be busy this evening at an event with Yoga Society; Barbara asking her what their plans were for dinner since it was just the two of them.

Diana idly wondered if she should perhaps join a society, as she fired off quick responses to each. She’d given the list of societies a cursory glance when she’d arrived, but none had really piqued her interest. Well, aside from Anime Society, but _that_ was never happening.

“Chicken caesar salad and a latte, please,” Diana rattled off automatically as she skimmed through the rest of her emails. Kudos, kudos, gushing comment, kudos, missing lecture slide, kudos, comme-

Wait, what was _that_ one?

**BelievingHeart625** replied to your comment on **_A Witch’s Adventure! :_ **

To begin, fuck you!

The hell is your problem? It’s a goddamn fanfic, or did I miss the bit where I had to take a grammar exam when I made my account? I know my fic’s not the best, but that’s not why I’m writing it, it’s my hobby. It’s something I do for fun because I love this show and I wanna show my love for it.

And I’m sure as hell not gonna stop just cause some rando wants to leave me hate mail. Stay mad forever for all I care.

In conclusion, ChariotFlippingTheBird.gif

Posted: 2019-10-02 11:47:42 GMT (0000)

…Wow.

Not quite the response Diana had expected.

“Oi miss, can ya move?” an agitated voice from behind her said.

“Oh, my apologies.” Diana quickly grabbed her lunch, tapping her card on the machine as she hastened to get out of the way of the queue forming behind her.

Her response was already being penned in her mind, sentences coalescing into being as she sat down at an empty table overlooking the square. However, as she took the first bite of her lunch, a single thought dominated all others.

Why the _hell_ could she not remember that clip of Chariot flipping someone off?

* * *

Akko charged up the stairs, clearing them two or three at a time. She attracted a couple of weird looks from the few people she passed, likely wondering _why_ it was that a small Japanese girl was running up to the sixth floor, but Akko knew she wouldn’t be able to sit still in the elevator, so it was this or drive people mad by hopping on the spot or walking in circles for the minute it took to get to her floor.

Speaking of which, she rounded the corner and dashed down the hall, flinging her bag into room 625 and banging her fist on 627 next door. “Lotte! Lotte open up shit’s got _real.”_

The door cracked open, and Lotte flinched back as Akko barrelled her way in. “OK so you got my text earlier right?”

Lotte adjusted her glasses, letting out a resigned sigh. “Akko, I _responded_ to your message. We chatted about it for fifteen minutes until you told me you were in a lecture and I stopped replying so you might pay attention.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was saying. So _anyway.”_ Akko fished out her phone. “After I sent that response-”

“And you’re still sure that escalating that far with your _first_ message to her was a good idea?” Lotte said.

 _“Obviously.”_ Akko said. “Want proof? Check _this_ out.”

Akko held up her phone. Lotte barely even glanced at LadyBeatrice’s latest response before looking away nervously. “A-Akko, are you _sure_ this is the kind of person you want to be getting into a flame war with? She’s kind of a big deal…”

“Then why have I never heard of her before today?” Akko asked, pacing around Lotte’s room as Lotte settled into her chair, opening up her laptop.

“Um, you said before you browse with a bunch of filters, right?” Lotte asked, clicking a couple of times. “What… kind of filters?”

“Everything I don’t wanna read?” Akko said. “Y’know, I get rid of the nasty shit like noncon or whatever. Then stuff I don’t enjoy, like Love Triangles and Angst.”

“You filter out Angst?” Lotte asked, eyes a little wide.

“Yeah?” Akko answered, unsure as to why Lotte was so surprised. “I don’t like it. I read Shiny Chariot fanfic to be happy.”

“That… would explain it…” Lotte trailed off. She turned her screen around, showing Akko the list of the top twenty Shiny Chariot fics, sorted by kudos, without any filters. She scrolled down the list.

Over half of them were written by LadyBeatrice.

Each of her fics had _thousands_ of hits. Hell, a few had _over ten thousand_ . All of them had hundreds of kudos. The top ranked ones had a little over a _thousand._ Lotte opened LadyBeatrice’s profile. She had over fifty fics, dating back to about 2012.

Every single one of them was tagged with ‘Angst.’

“This is… pretty unprecedented for such a small fandom,” Lotte said. “By this point she pretty much _is_ the Shiny Chariot fandom on AO3.”

“Chariot isn’t a small fandom,” Akko mumbled, trying and failing to process what she was seeing.

“I mean, back in its heyday it was pretty big,” Lotte acknowledged. “But it’s hardly the only mid-2000s anime that didn’t really survive the decline of ff.net and the transition to AO3. Look at what happened to _Haruhi.”_

Akko nodded mutely.

“That’s not even the craziest thing I found,” Lotte said. “She’s on the recommended list of _Edgar’s Bitch!”_

“…Edgar’s Bitch.” Akko deadpanned. And it took _a lot_ to get Akko to deadpan.

“She’s a huge name in the NightFall community.” Lotte turned her laptop around, clicking across the screen excitedly. “She doesn’t write anything, but she’s an _infamous_ critic. She’ll tear apart fics and authors that are beloved by the rest of the community if they’re not up to her standards. Her favourites list is like a well maintained exclusive club, it’s a big deal for _any_ author to get onto it.”

“So?” Akko said.

“So…” Lotte pulled up a Tumblr page and showed it to Akko. Wow those certainly were some images of naked vampire boys she did _not_ need in her life right now. Or ever. Lotte clicked through a few links. “She has dozens of fic recommendations, you can see the categories there.”

Akko’s eyes flicked over a list containing such _enticing_ properties as _Angsty M/M, Sexual Tension M/F, Smut M/M, BDSMut M/F…_

Lotte clicked on the one at the bottom, marked _The Good Shit._

“There’s only seven authors in here. LadyBeatrice is one of them, and she doesn’t even write NightFall!”

“And that’s a big deal?” Akko asked.

“Yes. Yes it is.”

“Huh.” Akko’s eyes darted over the page one more time, taking in the dripping blood, gothic imagery, and _way_ more vampire dongs that she ever really wanted to see. “I… guess she must be pretty good then.”

* * *

Akko hopped into bed around eleven, belly full of ramen that she _swore_ she saw the weird Filipino girl from room 616 put something into but hey it tasted fine so it wouldn’t be the end of the world, right?

This was, ostensibly, a night like many others. She was in bed, fluffy pyjamas on, reading Shiny Chariot fanfic. Nothing new, technically.

Except _everything_ was different. This was a recon mission. She was scouting the enemy.

She clicked over to LadyBeatrice’s profile, snickering a little at how empty it looked before she turned off the Angst filter. This immediately begged the question of where to even start, LadyBeatrice _did_ have fifty-seven fics to her name after all. Probably best to dip her toes with a one-shot, Akko figured, applying the necessary filters and sorting by kudos. May as well start with the best, or best-liked at least, first, right?

It was twenty-five thousand words long.

_What kind of one-shot was 25K?_

A quick sort by length, and Akko discovered that LadyBeatrice’s _shortest_ one-shot clocked in at a little over _twelve thousand_ words. That was like thirty chapters for her! Resigned to her fate, and grateful that she’d left herself with a couple hours before she needed to sleep, Akko settled in for the long haul.

  
  


* * *

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

 **Archive Warning :** **No Archive Warnings Apply**

Category:  F/F 

Fandom: Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot

Relationship: Chariot/Croix

Characters: Chariot, Croix

Additional Tags: Angst, Heartbreak, A Sonata in three parts

Language: English

Published: 2017-03-26 Words: 12430 Chapters: 1/1 Comments: 67 Kudos: 875 Bookmarks: 56 Hits: 6852

**Moonlight**

_LadyBeatrice_

Summary:

It is said that grief is observed in five parts. For Chariot, there were only ever three. For there was no possibility of denial, and how could there ever be acceptance of that which she had become, and that which she had lost?

Notes:

This work is intended to be read alongside Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 14 in C# Minor, op. 24, no. 2, colloquially known as the “Moonlight Sonata.” While it can be enjoyed without accompaniment, the true meaning may be lost without the appropriate musical ambiance.

_Movement I: Adagio Sostenuto_

Chariot’s mind freed itself from the pull of oblivion, gradually alighting itself upon the _wretched_ call of a new morn. Such futility. Better to sleep. Better to dream of a world where her dreams could still be. Better to lose herself in the realm of _fantasy_ than embrace the cold light of a reality where love was no more. The redhead’s eyelids fluttered open, heavy with sleep yet _heavier still_ with the knowledge that what lay beyond was yet _another_ day where her dreams lay tattered and her hope in ruins. Her dormitory appeared as it always did, or did it perhaps look a little _more_ dreary today? Her head tilted lethargically towards the window, beholding the gray overcast skies she had come to know so well. How fitting. How fitting that the sky should reflect the dark clouds hanging over her _tormented_ mind.

_—How is she not even out of bed yet!? It’s been like two hundred words and nothing’s happened! She’s just been sad!—_

Her companions had already begun their days, leaving Chariot alone in her dormitory, with only her thoughts for company. That suited her well, as solitude was her oldest and closest friend, something she had come to know intimately ever since that day when her mother passed, so long ago. _—Wait, Chariot’s mom never even appears in the show! Why is she_ dead _now?—_ That she might have known reprieve from the awful, _crushing_ loneliness, only to have it dashed away… That was the _true_ torment. Without hope, one could bear the agony. Hope was what gave despair its sharpest edge.

As the red-haired witch stared at the darkening sky, she wondered if Croix was staring at the same clouds. She cursed herself. How _easily_ her thoughts turned to her betrayer. Her betrayer who still held her heart under lock and key, an unassailable prison from which she could never escape, tormented by her jailor even from afar. Ensnared forever in the spider’s thread of her doomed love.

Chariot rose from her bed, lethargy fighting her every action. _—Finally!—_ She glanced out the window and imagined herself trapped in a high tower, waiting in vain for a gallant hero of true love to save her. She laughed at her _childishness._ How could true love save her when it was _love_ that had imprisoned her to begin with? Her foolish, _naive_ love which had been turned inwards, its thorns encircling her once blooming rose of a heart.

Her eyes turned towards her bed. Perhaps best to escape once more? No. No, Chariot did not deserve the reprieve of dreams when her magic had _stolen_ the dreams of so many. Perhaps if her own dreams had been strong enough, Dream Fuel Spirit would never have been necessary. If she had been half the witch she believed herself to be, without what Croix had blessed and _cursed_ her with, then there would have been no need…

_—This is so dumb! Chariot didn’t know about Dream Fuel Spirit! She never would have used it if she had known! It doesn’t make any sense for her to feel so guilty—_

Chariot dressed herself slowly, delicately, as if her own body were made of a fragile glass that would _break_ at the lightest touch. Perhaps that much was true of her psyche, she thought bitterly, cinching her uniform belt about her waist. Her mind, traitor that it was, filled at once with unbidden images of when _another’s_ arms were about her waist instead, her gentle touch a simultaneous succour and poison.

The rest of her uniform followed, the motions rote, robotic. As if her _hands_ were following a predetermined set of instructions whilst her _mind_ wandered into an abyss of its own making. Her hat settled into place last, adorning her red hair like a crown. Like a monument to the person she _should_ have been, but could never—

 _—Screw this. Next section. I’m not waiting another thousand words just for her to get_ dressed—

_Movement II: Allegretto_

Chariot flinched at the clamour of noise rising from the cafeteria. The redheaded ‘heroine’ may have been victorious in her internal battle against the decision to break her fast _—HOW IS SHE ONLY GETTING BREAKFAST NOW!? IT’S BEEN LIKE FOUR THOUSAND WORDS!—_ yet the prospect was no more tempting now than it had been when she had initially debated giving her morning meal a miss. The noise was so _cloying,_ so _overwhelming,_ so _all-consuming._ She truly wished she could be anywhere else right now. Well, anywhere save for that fateful spot, that fateful day, standing upon the pinnacle of the New Moon Tower, where the love of her life had revealed the awful truth of her _‘heroism’_ to her.

 _—Seriously, does she think about_ anything _else?—_

How much so had it seemed that her life was akin to the New Moon for which the tower was named. To grow brighter day by day, to bring light where it was darkest, to hang brighter than every star upon the sky. To learn that she was a moon that never waxed. That she brought not light to others, but only their own waning.

Chariot reached the front of the line, giving her order to the serving lady. A kale smoothie, accompanied by granola cereal with fresh berries. The French girl wished—for a desperate moment—they _at least_ did omelettes, but even that mild reprieve was too much to ask.

 _—Kale smoothie and granola?? Should’ve known she’d be bougie as shit with a name like_ LadyBeatrice—

She sat—alone, in a crowded room—slowly digesting her meal. It was as if she was as unreachable as the very moon of which she had thought. None wished to speak to her, now the secret of her theft had been revealed. Or _had_ it been revealed? Croix had never told her if she’d revealed the truth to any save herself, but Chariot was always afraid—so _damned_ afraid—of asking, finding out, and knowing the awful truth. Perhaps it wasn’t her shame at all. Perhaps it was simply that her classmates could tell she wished to be alone. It scarcely mattered. Nothing did.

Chariot’s meal was gone as quickly as it had arrived, the sustenance a brief reprieve against the awful weight of existence. Her smoothie exhausted, her cereal depleted, she was faced with the awful prospect of another day at magic school, as the greatest witch of her generation. A blessing, and a curse.

_Movement III: Presto Agitato_

_—Wait why was part two so short!? The first bit was like twenty pages!—_

Her first class was torture. Practical Application of Spellwork. Chariot was asked to demonstrate, as _always._ Did they not know the _torment_ they were inflicting on her? How merely using magic—in any capacity—reminded the redheaded prodigy of how her very own magic had betrayed her? Her constant fear that if her magic was even a _fraction_ too powerful, it could become a siphon once more. How could she ever tell? How could she ever _know?_ The French witch had been afflicting others with her curse—with the _wretched blight_ of Dream Fuel Spirit—for so long that it was fully intertwined with her own magic. The magic which had been the brightest spark of her life, that which brought her the greatest joy, now permanently _tarnished_ with the _foul_ things it had done.

Chariot cast the spell, seeing eyes glaze over with wonder as the sparks erupted from her wand. Stupid. Preposterous. _Ridiculous._ This was a spell _anyone_ should have been capable of, not least witches of Chariot’s age. Any one of her classmates should have had the capability of producing similar results, yet as Chariot glanced around the room, she beheld each of them struggling, failing to grasp even _this_ simple concept.

_—What? Chariot sucks at school! That’s the whole point! She’s only strong when the hour is darkest! You’d think with how much she goes on about DFS she’d remember that—_

“Chariot, can you help me with the incantation? I can’t quite get it right.” The redhead’s gaze turned to her timid bluenette classmate, who had so rudely interrupted her thoughts—

_—Rudely interrupted? Chariot helps everyone! And no one would even ask her for help with class cause she’s always messing up! That’s what Croix was there for. Yeah screw this—_

* * *

Akko skimmed down the page, trying to find _anything_ of interest occurring. Another class, she’s sad. Lunch, she’s sad. More classes, sad in all of those. _Prefect duties!?_ Since _when_ was Chariot ever going to be in line for Prefect duties?

It was all making Akko sick. Wait, that was meant to be a figurative, but her stomach was actually churning now. Who knew fanfic could be so bad it made her _literally_ feel like throwing up.

Actually, maybe it was just the ramen.

Anyway, last section. Nothing had actually _happened_ so far, but maybe it was all building somewhere. Maybe there would finally be a fight, or a new spell, or _something_ to explain why the hell this stupid fic had six goddamn thousand hits when all Chariot did was whine about how sad she was. Maybe there would actually be a _point._

* * *

—As dusk inevitably lost its long battle, the veil of night settled _oppressively_ across the landscape, much as the darkness had long settled across Chariot’s mind. _—SERIOUSLY!? Does it ever stop?—_ Her eyes turned once more towards that accursed monument to all she had lost. The New Moon Tower stood tall, shadowing over both the grounds and her thoughts. _—At night!?—_ As if sensing her gaze, the thin sliver of the moon rose behind it, a pale crescent sliced across the sky and across her heart. Once, she had imagined herself alike to that moon, a bright light that would grow only brighter _—You already made that point! Back up there in section two! Did you just forget because it’s been like seven thousand words since then?—_

Elsewhere, a woman with pale lilac hair beheld the same moon, its crescent a blade that pierced her anguish. Chariot had always told her that she believed herself to be alike to the moon, a shining beacon that would grow only brigh— _OH MY GOD IF YOU SAY THIS ONE MORE TIME I SWEAR I’M GOING TO REACH THROUGH THE SCREEN AND BEAT YOU TO DEATH—_ ter. Croix chuckled to herself, though there was no mirth to be found in her voice. If only she had known that the converse were true. Chariot was the sun, and Croix was her moon, forever cursed only to radiate her reflected light. To have meaning only when it was given to her by her love. To exist solely through virtue of what she was to another.

All she had ever desired was to see the sun glow brighter.

And yet she had done so much more. She had done the impossible.

She had snuffed out the sun’s light.

And now, all that remained was the false, cold light of the waning moon.

Notes:

(See the beginning of the chapter for notes.)

* * *

…What?

That was it???

Where was the magic? Where were the monsters? _Where was the power of friendship!?_

There wasn’t even a _single_ magical girl transformation sequence! Not one! In twelve thousand words! This fic had absolutely _nothing_ to do with Shiny Chariot. It was as if LadyBeatrice had completely forgotten about the four seasons worth of happy magical girl anime before the twist.

Akko was halfway to the comments section, ready to ask LadyBeatrice why she even wrote Shiny Chariot fics if she was just gonna completely ignore everything that made it cool in the first place, when she stopped.

She’d just had a _far_ better idea.

Grinning maniacally to herself, Akko opened a new tab and went straight to Google Docs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanna shout out that I had some really great help / feedback from a bunch of people with the LadyBeatrice fic and it would be nowhere near as funny without that assistance! In no particular order, thanks to Wolfhunter, hope, Supa, Lux, toasty_coconut and Onhiro for helping me refine it.
> 
> And thanks for the great response to chapter 1! Hope you all enjoyed this one just as much, and that you're looking forward to the future chapters as much as I'm looking forward to sharing them with you!


	3. Impractical Practicals

Rating: General Audiences

 **Archive Warning : ** **Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings**

Category: F/F

Fandom: Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot

Relationship: Chariot/Croix

Characters: Chariot, Croix, Original Characters

Additional Tags: Adventure, Comedy, Fluff, Magic!, I love this anime so much and I always will, a believing heart is your magic!

Language: English

Published: 2014-08-28 Updated: 2019-10-03 Words: 42492 Chapters: 114/? Comments: 233 Kudos: 5 Bookmarks:  1  Hits: 317

**A Witch’s Adventure!**

_BelievingHeart625_

**Chapter 114:** Akko’s Rival!

Notes:

_Told you we’d be back to our regular schedule in no time! And with another new character too! Unfortunately, this one isn’t a good guy like Jans… she’s Akko’s rival! How will our heroes react to this new naysayer? Find out… right now!_

_And we can't forget the disclaimer! Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot belongs to Hokuto Shichisei and to Shiny Studios! I don't own the characters either, except Akko! Well, I made Jans and the new rival too but they're based off other people so I don't really own them!_

The Professor stood at the front of the class, lecturing them on the new spell to learn. “Now class, this is a new spell for you to learn. It’s called the Empathic Shield Spell, **[A/N: This spell is used by Croix in Season 3, Episode 12,** **_The Road to Arcturus!_ ** **Croix isn’t in the class today cause she already knows the spell]** and is used to keep your emotions neutral. The incantation is _Stul-Kadas,_ please split into pairs to practice!”

Akko and Chariot quickly picked each other as pairs! They tried casting the spell, but it was very hard and they struggled.

Suddenly, another witch started laughing at them! “Stupid. Preposterous. _Ridiculous._ This is a spell _anyone_ should have been capable of, not least witches your age.”

Akko started shouting at the new witch. She was taller than Akko, and Chariot, and had black hair, and looked very sad. **[A/N: This is Akko’s new rival!]** “Oh yeah? Who are _you_ to tell us what we can do!?”

“My name is Beatrice,” Beatrice told her, looking down smugly, “now that you’ve finished rudely interrupting me, I must go back to my own practice. Learning to protect my emotions is very important, as I am very sad all the time.”

“The spell is silly anyway!” Chariot came to Akko’s side! “Emotions like happiness and love are what makes magic so wonderful! Why would we learn a spell that stops them!?”

“The spell protects you from your own hope,” Beatrice sighed sadly, “hope is what gives despair its sharpest edge.”

“Chariot stop interrupting class!” The mean Professor interrupted before Chariot could tell Beatrice how wrong she was.

Then an evil spirit appeared in the middle of the classroom!

“Beatrice!” the Professor shouted loudly, “can you beat the spirit!?”

“No, I am too busy thinking about how sad I am,” Beatrice said sadly. She stared wistfully out the window as if she were trapped upon a high tower.

“We’ll beat it!” Chariot shouted back, raising the Shiny Rod once again.

The spirit laughed evilly, “you will never beat me!” it grinned at them showing off its many rows of nasty teeth! “No magic has ever been powerful enough to defeat my mighty emotion barrier!”

“That’s where you’re wrong!” Akko said. Then Chariot used the Shiny Rod to transform her clothes and Akko’s clothes into their white witch outfits!

 _“Murowa!”_ They shouted together. **[A/N: This is the incantation for the Heat Blast Spell!]**

The evil spirit laughed at them firing the spell, but the last laugh wasn’t his! His emotional barrier wasn’t strong enough to stand in the way of the joy of magic from Chariot and Akko! The Heat Blast Spell hit the spirit and it exploded!

“Yay!” Akko celebrated with Chariot.

“Hmph,” the mean Professor grumbled.

Meanwhile, Beatrice was staring out at the New Moon Tower. “How I had always imagined myself to be alike to the moon…”

“Shut up,” Akko told her.

Notes:

_I hope you enjoyed reading! And seeing Akko and Chariot stand up to their new rival and their mean professor! Comment your favourite bits, but only if you’re gonna be nice!_

_And as always, a believing heart is your magic!_

* * *

Akko giggled to herself as she settled into Computer Lab LN-4. Everything was coming up Kagari today! New chapter? Check. Got back at LadyBeatrice and her silly sad fic that wasn’t even about Shiny Chariot? Check. And to top it all off, her favourite class with her favourite lecturer? Check and check!

Well, maybe hold the check on that last part. Professor Callistis hadn’t actually made it through the door yet, making this the first and likely only time in Akko’s life she’d arrived to class _before_ the teacher.

A few other students started to grumble as the clock ticked over to 10.05, before the door opened with a slam. Professor Callistis stumbled in, balancing seven books in her arm, bent at a strange angle after using her elbow to open the door. The book stack was already tilting precariously as she tried to right herself. “Good morning cla- _AH.”_

Two books fell off the stack, and in her scramble to catch them Professor Callistis sent the other five flying. _Somehow_ she prevented any of them from hitting the ground, ending up hopping across to the desk with a book balanced on her foot and two on her head.

“Ahem.” She slammed the last book onto the desk with a victorious thud. “Welcome to our first tutorial for Intro to Computer Animation! Unlike last week’s lecture, today we’ll be getting you all introduced to the practical aspects of digital animation! If you could all just switch your computers on…”

“All our computers are already on, Professor,” a voice from behind Akko said.

“Except yours,” another student offered.

“Ah… yes… I’ll just be… getting to that…” Professor Callistis switched on her own computer, smiling awkwardly at the class as it booted up. “A-anyway, if you go onto the module website, you should find the key frames for a bouncing ball. Your objective for today will be to attempt to make a short clip by filling in the spaces between those frames. Detailed instructions have been provided on the site, so just try to follow those,” Callistis trailed off as she finally brought up the site on her own computer, and projected onto the screen at the front of the class. “And don’t hesitate to ask if you need any help!”

Akko’s hand shot up immediately.

Professor Callistis almost jumped out of her skin. “Ah, yes?”

“What program should we use?”

“The computers in LN-4 all come equipped with Toon Boom, the industry standard. Each also has a Wacom Intuos Pro available for you to use during the tutorial, although you’re welcome to use your own tablet if you-”

“I dunno how to use Toon Boom,” Akko said, shrinking down a little. A few students giggled, Akko tried her best not to notice them. “I’ve never used it before,” she clarified.

Professor Callistis paled. “Oh. Let me just check the schedule for one moment…” A minute or so of frantic clicking later, and her eyes widened. “That can’t be right…”

“What can’t be right?” Akko asked with mounting dread.

“Oh, apologies, talking to myself,” Callistis said. “Um, it appears that the module teaching you how to use various standard programs that you’ll be using during your time at Luna Nova is in your… second… term.”

“Why!?” Akko nearly screamed.

“I… don’t know…” Professor Callistis said. “I suppose for this tutorial, feel free to use whichever programs you’re most comfortable with. I’ll try to uh, write up some kind of crash course to send to you before the next tutorial?”

Akko nodded, hoping and praying the computers at least had Clip Studio Paint or Krita. She sighed with relief at seeing the Clip Studio icon, _finally_ a lucky break her way. The tablet was pretty neat too! Took a couple minutes getting used to but it wasn’t much different from her own Wacom, which was good because she’d _maybe_ forgotten to bring it today so being able to use a tablet that was functionally the same but slightly better was pretty nice.

As she waited for the key frames to import and set up, she glanced around the class, seeing others dragging out their own tablets. Huh. Those were all uh, expensive. _Very_ expensive. God _damn_ that girl over there had a Microsoft Surface Book. Wait holy shit that guy had a _Wacom Cintiq Pro!_

What the hell was going on!? These students were all her age, right? Why did they all have tablets and screens that cost more than Akko’s tablet, laptop, and all of her software combined? Heck you could probably throw in her _plane tickets_ and it wouldn’t come close!

It just… didn’t sit right with Akko. She remembered begging her parents for extra shifts at the shop. She remembered the summers she’d spent doing every crappy job imaginable, or all those after school art classes she’d taught for like three hundred yen an hour cause elementary schools were _cheap-ass bastards._ All just to upgrade her laptop to one which didn’t have a heart attack every time it was asked to run Krita.

Akko was not, by nature, a bitter person.

Most of the time.

With a sigh to herself, and a silent determination that rich parents who bought their spoiled kids tablets worth hundreds of thousands of yen _would_ be first against the wall, Akko got to work.

* * *

“So, how are you getting on?”

Akko nearly jumped as Professor Callistis’ voice appeared from right over her shoulder.

“Uh, ah, pretty well Sensei! Uh, Professor!” Akko scrambled out, hoping that whatever she was zoomed in on right now didn’t look too rough.

“Let’s have a look, then,” she said with a smile.

“Alright!” Akko hit the play button.

A couple seconds later, her professor’s eyes widened. Please be a good eye-widening _please._

“Your style is very… distinct,” Callistis started. “I’m detecting a heavy influence from Japanese animation?” she trailed off as she looked away from the screen to Akko herself. “Ah! Sorry, I had no intention of stereotyping, my apologies!”

Akko laughed brightly. “It’s fine, I love anime! It’s what inspired me to become an animator!”

“Ah yes, that makes sense,” Professor Callistis said. “Well, um, your smear frames _are_ very dramatic, but I’m not sure that was recommended in the brief…”

“Huh? The brief just told us how to fill in the spaces, it didn’t tell us we couldn’t add some extra character to it,” Akko said, hoping she didn’t sound as desperate as she knew she did.

“That’s true… In future, do try to stick to the wording of the brief you’re given,” she said. “In your work as an animator, ‘filling-in’ tasks like these will be commonplace, and many directors can be, um, a little difficult when it comes to permitting creative interpretation of their instructions.”

Now it was Akko’s turn to widen her eyes. “Professor, have _you_ worked as an animator!?”

Professor Callistis froze. “Um. Maybe? A long time ago just filling in frames like you’re doing here definitely not on anything you’d have heard of _I prefer teaching anyway!”_ she rattled out at a million miles an hour, ending with a nervous laugh.

Akko gasped. “Did you ever work with Hokuto Shichisei!?”

Her professor turned away, adjusting her glasses. “I’m afraid I don’t recognise that name.”

“The director of Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot!” Akko declared, causing a few of her classmates to turn and glare at her sudden outburst. “It’s my favourite show ever, the animation is _super_ dynamic and vibrant!”

“Oh, yes,” Callistis said. “I remember seeing a bit of it when it was airing. It got cancelled some time ago, did it not?”

Akko deflated. “Yeah… I kept holding out hope it’d come back some day, but now?” Akko held up a fist, grinning to her professor. “I’ve got a way better dream. I’m gonna make my own show that’s just as cool, and inspires others the same way Shiny Chariot inspired me!”

“That’s very admirable, Atsuko.” Her professor wouldn’t meet her eyes, still looking vaguely out the window. Huh, kinda reminded Akko of Chariot in that LadyBeatrice fic. The mere thought of it made her giggle, and oh man how was she meant to explain to her professor that she wasn’t laughing at _her_ she was laughing at the mental comparison of her to a character in a terrible anime fanfic.

It seemed Professor Callistis either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Anyway, do try to get finished before the end of class, you have around half an hour left.”

Crap! Akko had completely lost track of time while working! She was barely halfway done and her two hours were nearly up! _And_ she was meant to do it without the smear frames? But the first part already had them! Aw man it was gonna look _awful_ if the back half of the bounce didn’t have the same style as the first half, right?

Rushed or unfinished? Rushed or unfinished? The choice was paralysing. Akko sat with her stylus completely still above the tablet, fully aware that every second she didn’t draw was making both options significantly worse.

“Twenty five minutes to go, class!” Professor Callistis announced.

_How had that been five minutes!?_

Rushed it would have to be then. At least this tutorial wasn’t graded. Or was it? _Kuso,_ Akko couldn’t remember if it was graded or not and she didn’t wanna _ask_ cause then it’d look like she was worried about her piece and she _was_ but she didn’t want everyone else to _know_ that even though she was very clearly and visibly spiralling out of control as she sped through the remaining frames.

Oof that last frame was a little too much of a jump from the previous one. Or was it? It _looked_ about right when she just stared at them like this. She flicked back and forth between the two frames a couple more times. Maybe if she did it enough reality would start to actually distort for her, wouldn’t that be fun. Maybe if it distorted _enough_ she’d reach an alternate universe where that frame actually followed from the previous one-

“Fifteen minutes!”

Screw it, next frame. And then the next frame. And then the _next._ Akko’s brain struggled to function as she rattled out frames in less than a minute each. She’d never worked this fast before, and she was quickly learning she _hated_ it. Kuso that last one was so sloppy. And not the fun sloppy where it looked wacky and goofy and fun, sloppy in the sense of this is why her old art teacher used to always say she wished corporal punishment was legal when she saw Akko’s linework.

It was so frustrating! She’d got better! She really had! She wouldn’t have made it into Luna Nova in the first place if she hadn’t! And now her first practical bit of work was gonna look like _shit!_ She’d been looking forward to this class all week and now she was pretty sure that last frame looked more like a shrivelled walnut than a bouncing ball.

“Five minutes to go, don’t hesitate to call me over if you’re struggling with the export process,” Professor Callistis called from the other end of the room to Akko.

Akko slumped onto the desk as she finished her last frame. Time to watch it back… Akko could barely look.

Oof.

Just. Oof.

The first half looked _amazing._ The dynamic slide, the explosive impact, the way the ball scrunched up small then launched back into space.

Then promptly morphed through about fifteen different shapes on a random trajectory to the last keyframe.

Kuso.

* * *

Honestly, messing up the animation hadn’t even been the worst part.

No, the _worst_ part was that their submitted projects were uploaded to the module webpage so they could _‘learn from each other’s efforts!’_

So now everyone in her class was gonna see that absolute piece of crap under Akko’s name for the rest of the year. Fantastic. She’d idly flicked through a couple others, after confirming that yes, hers did really look as bad as her first impression had told her. Some of them were actually pretty good, but most were… mixed.

The really weird thing is that there was pretty much no correlation between her expectations of her classmates and the results. The girl with the Surface Book had completely botched hers, to the point where it almost looked worse than the back half of Akko’s. Meanwhile the Cintiq Pro guy’s looked so good he probably could’ve walked into any animation house in Europe and been hired on the spot.

Like, could reality either back up her claim that you can’t buy talent and have all the rich kids suck, _or_ show that the unbreachable class divide truly was the greatest barrier holding back young artists, and have all the rich kids be great. Very unfair to have it just be random like that, showing that hard work and talent really were all that mattered after all. Or something like that anyway.

Still though, she couldn’t quite shake the sinking feeling of dread in her gut. Like this was only the beginning of her misfortunes, and a whole world of trouble was awaiting her. That was weird, Akko was _normally_ pretty optimistic, if she knew herself she knew she’d be bouncing back from this class and making kick-ass animations again in no time. So why couldn’t she shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen to her?

“So…” A dry voice came from behind Akko. She wheeled around in shock, almost falling off her chair as she turned to look at the mystery person she hadn’t even heard enter the kitchen.

She was rewarded with the sight of that strange girl with the pink hair from room 616, holding a box of mushrooms and smiling maliciously at her.

“How are you feeling?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slightly shorter chapter but basically chapter 3 was going on for ages so it made more sense to split it and just upload the first half now so you'll be glad to know what is now chapter 4 is already nearly done!
> 
> Oh, and shoutouts to PyroTato and Supa for helping me look like I know what I'm talking about with the animation parts.
> 
> Comments appreciated as always!


	4. Goddamn Weebs

“So, how are you feeling?”

A horrible scraping sound echoed around the kitchen as Akko spun around and nearly went flying out of her chair. The pink-haired girl chuckled darkly as Akko pulled herself back up, feeling fully justified in that now-explained-unexplained sensation of dread in her gut.

“Am o shay-” Akko started, before realising that speaking with a mouthful of oven pizza was probably unwise, even for her. She swallowed thickly. “Uh, I’m pretty good, I guess?”

“Huh,” she sounded strangely disappointed? “I’ll need to up the dose then.”

“The what?” Akko said, eyeing her with suspicion. “Who are you anyway?”

The girl completely ignored her, pulling out a notebook and writing something down. “Twenty micrograms insufficient to cause reaction,” she dictated to herself as she wrote. “Determine whether to try thirty or forty next time.”

“Hey!” Akko shouted, chair screeching against the floor as she stood. “So you  _ did _ put something in my food!”

“Oh, you noticed,” the girl said, looking up from her book with her one visible eye. “And you ate it anyway? Even dumber than you look, huh?”

“I do not look dumb!” Akko squared up, pushing herself right into the mystery girl’s face.

“Would a smart person eat a cup of ramen with twenty micrograms of muscarine in it?” The girl grinned wickedly, and her teeth looked almost pointed. Akko couldn’t help but think of that evil spirit she’d written last night. Or 4 am this morning, as the case may be.

“Musca-what?”

“A compound found in fungi of the  _ amanita muscaria _ genus, such as the  _ wonderfully _ common  _ clitocybe dealbata. _ Its effects include, but are not limited to, excessive sweating, blurred vision, abnormal heart rate, gastric pain, diarrhea, and occasionally hallucinations or otherwise impaired brain function.” The pink-haired girl rattled off these facts with an alarming glee, almost floating in the air as she blissfully described the nasty effects. “Tell me, have you been experiencing any of these symptoms in the past day? Aside from that last one, obviously.”

“Uh, my stomach was kinda sore for a bit last night, but that was about it,” Akko said, scratching her head as she tried to think of anything else.

“Huh. Shame.”

“Wait, why did you try to  _ poison _ me!?” Akko demanded, refusing to let the girl turn away from her.

“You spilled my coffee during freshers week.”

“You left it sitting out on the table! I even cleaned up and offered to make more for whoever it was!” Akko yelled, flailing her arms.

“And your offer was denied,” the girl said. “This was the only fair recompense I could think of.”

Akko leaned back from the girl’s space, folding her arms with a huff. “Well anyway, what’s your name?”

“Sucy Manbavaran,” the girl said, drawing out her last name slowly. “Don’t bother trying to report me, muscarine passes out through urine within twenty four hours at most. I will deny everything.”

“What? Oh, nah, I was gonna ask if you wanted to hang out later,” Akko said with a grin.

“What.”

“We’re friends now,” Akko said simply.

“What.”

“Wanna come to AnimeSoc with me?” Akko asked.

“No, you weeb,” Sucy dismissed her.

“How can I be a weeaboo? I’m  _ Japanese!” _ Akko yelled at her, voice echoing around the tiny kitchen.

“Wow, calling yourself Japanese. Doesn’t get more weeb than that,” Sucy said.

“Nihon shusshin desu!” Akko yelled again, throwing her arms up in frustration.

“Such a weeb you even learned Japanese just for anime.” Sucy shook her head sadly.

_ “What the hell is wrong with you!?” _

* * *

Really, weeaboo was a dumb insult in the first place. Sure, some people liked anime a lot, maybe a little too much. Akko was probably one of those people, in all honesty. But the thought that someone could be so obsessed with anime or Nintendo games or whatever that they’d go around pretending to be from Akko’s home? Ridiculous. Clearly just a dumb exaggeration used to insult anime fans who got a little too weird.

“Kagari-sempai!”

What.

“Ha jimmy ma sheetay! Wata shiwah Marianne desu, mais, uh, Marie-chan to yonday kudasai!” said a girl with a high ponytail, strange coat, and—was that a _sheathed_ _katana_ she was holding?

“Um, I speak English…” Akko said. “And that’s, uh, not quite how you’d say that…”

The girl — Marianne, apparently? Akko was  _ not _ calling her  _ Marie-chan _ — gasped, falling back against the wall and clutching her hand to her mouth. “I was mistaken?” Her voice was heavily accented, but  _ definitely _ not Japanese. Was that French? Akko wasn’t great at European accents yet, she could be Swiss or Belgian or, hell, even Italian for all Akko knew. “But how!?”

“Uh, it’s pronounced ‘senpai,’ for one,” Akko said. “Actually, on second thought, just call me Akko.”

“Ah, Akko-senpai. Wakarimasoo.” She placed a fist to her hand and bowed her head.

“That’s… not what I…” Akko struggled, casting around for  _ anything _ that would get her out of this situation. “Oh, hey Constanze!”

Constanze looked over from where she’d wandered in, and headed over to sit next to Akko, flashing her a smile.

Marianne sat down on her other side.

Before Akko could be subjected to any further attempts at communication in her mother tongue, there was an awful high-pitched squeal from the lecture hall speakers. “Merde, turn it off!” Wait, Akko knew that voice.

Standing at the front of the hall, fiddling with a microphone, was none other than Professor Callistis. “Aha!” She held the microphone up victoriously. “Ahem. Welcome to the first meeting of the year for the Luna Nova Anime Society! Due to the… unfortunate incidents… in the previous year, the university _strongly_ _recommended_ that there be a lecturer to, um, chaperone. So that’s me!”

Disbelieving murmurs broke out throughout the room, and Professor Callistis’ face fell about a mile.

“Hi Professor!” Akko shouted, waving her hand. “Nice to see you here.”

“Ah!” Professor Callistis leapt in shock, turning to where Akko sat. “Oh, Akko, I didn’t see you there. Please, while we’re here, feel free to call me Ursula.” She turned to the rest of the room. “That goes for all of you! I promise this won’t be some dreadful experience of an adult ruining all of your fun, I quite like anime too!”

That made sense, since she’d mentioned having seen a couple of Shiny Chariot eps. Akko figured Ursula couldn’t be much older than thirty, that was young for a lecturer, wasn’t it? Not all that surprising that a millennial animation lecturer would be into anime, failure to grasp technology aside.

“Anyway, since today is our first viewing, I thought it would be best if we started with introductory episodes! Everyone who wishes to do so can nominate their favourite first episode of an anime, and then we vote on what we want to watch.” Ursula said.

“Won’t everyone just vote for their own thing?” said a guy near the front.

“You each get three votes,” Ursula explained. “We should have time for eight or nine episodes, depending on how quickly the voting gets done.”

The room descended into a flurry of discussion on what shows to pick. Akko, of course, already knew her choice.

“What happened last year that was so bad we need a  _ lecturer _ to supervise us?” One guy behind her muttered.

“I heard an exec was going around DMing first year girls asking for feet pics,” a girl next to him answered.

_ What. _

“Eesh.”

“Huh,” another guy spoke up. “I thought it was cause the VP kept showing up in an ahegao hoodie.”

_ What. _

“Nah I heard it was cause the president tried to suggest one of the viewing themes for a night should be hent-”

_ “What!?” _ Akko yelled, wheeling around.

“I mean, what do you expect?” The speaker shrugged. “Weebs are weirdos, man.”

Maybe coming to AnimeSoc  _ wasn’t _ as great as that first social had made it seem. Then again all she’d really done was hang out with Constanze and Amanda. “Hey Conz, is Amanda coming?” Akko asked.

Constanze shook her head, setting a small blackboard on the desk in front of them and quickly writing,  _ “She doesn’t watch anime.” _ She gave Akko a sly smile and returned her chalk to the board.  _ “Yet.” _

“Aw, tonight would have been perfect,” Akko said, slumping back in her chair. “Cause we’re gonna watch the first episode of the greatest anime of all time!”

“Naruto!?” Marianne asked excitedly.

“Nah,  _ Mahou Sho-” _

“Alright, what are your nominations?” Ursula said happily into the mic.

Akko cleared her throat. Not like she had any issue with repeating herself.

_ “Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot!” _ she yelled.

Stunned silence met her exclamation.

“I’ll just… write that one on the board.” Ursula went over with a marker in hand. “Anyone else?”

As a flurry of other suggestions went up and a flustered Ursula struggled to write them all down, Akko pulled out her phone, happy with a job well done.

Oh ho ho, was that an email from AO3 she spotted? The one Akko had been waiting for all day? She’d even asked Lotte to hold off on reviewing so as not to give her false excitement too early, but now it was time to bask in her victory!

**LadyBeatrice** left the following comment on  **_A Witch’s Adventure!_ ** _ : _

In all of my time upon this mortal plane, this may just be the single most juvenile piece of nonsense I have ever laid eyes upon.

They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but somehow I doubt that was your intent when quoting  _ Moonlight. _ I take it the work was not to your satisfaction then? My sincerest apologies, perhaps a story with smaller words may be more to your taste?

I won’t even deign to comment on your piece, suffice it to say that it was scarcely an improvement on the previous one hundred and thirteen identically poor chapters. Your attempts to get under my skin with this ridiculous parody character are laughable, which is truly tragic considering the repeated failure of your numerous attempts at actual humour.

And for the record, my hair is blonde.

Posted: 2019-10-03 18:06:20 GMT (0000)

Akko fell into a fit of manic giggles while she looked at her phone. People were probably staring, but how could she help herself? It was  _ too _ perfect.

And that line about small words was actually kinda funny! Who knew Beatrice had it in her to make wisecracks? Sure, the one about Akko’s jokes not being that funny could have been a little snappier, but definitely a step above where Akko had assumed her level of humour was.

This was actually starting to be kinda fun! She was already halfway through typing her reply when she noticed Constanze straining to hold her board up. Ursula hadn’t looked in their direction for a while, and Constanze was, well, not the tallest. She tried to stand on her seat, which promptly folded under her feet and nearly sent her sprawling.

Akko caught the board, holding her other hand against Constanze’s shoulder to balance her. “You alright?” she asked. “Didn’t get hurt or anything?”

Constanze shook her head, reaching for the board again.

Akko took a look at it. “Constanze would like to nominate Gurren Lagann!” she shouted over the din, handing the board back to Constanze straight after.

Constanze shot her a grateful thumbs up, settling back into her seat.

“Good taste too,” Akko said with an appreciative nod.

Constanze’s eyes lit up, and she quickly pulled out her phone to show Akko an image of— wow that was a  _ huge _ replica of the Gurren Lagann that she was standing next to there, practically taller than she was.

“Holy crap Conz, that’s so cool! Hey Marianne look at this!” Akko sat back to let Marianne look at Constanze’s phone.

“Sugoi desoo!” Marianne declared.

Akko decided to take pity.

“It’s more like deh- _ suh,” _ Akko over-enunciated to make her point. “And sometimes it sounds like  _ dess, _ kinda depends on the context.”

“Oh!” Marianne said, bowing her head gratefully as Constanze flicked through her phone. “Arigatou!”

“Yeah you have that one down,” Akko nodded. “A lot of the time when you read something with a ‘u’ at the end of the word in Romaji, it’s kinda silent?” Akko snapped up. “Actually no it’s more like, you kinda over-pronounce the last sound before it? So it gives this little ‘uh’ sound naturally, but you’re not really  _ trying _ to say it?”

Marianne nodded furiously. “Thank you for the help!”

“No problem.” Akko shot her a grin. “Although sometimes you do pronounce the ‘uh’ sound, it changes based on what you said before it. I’ll see if I can find a guide or something to send you later, if you want?”

“I would be most appreciative, Akko-se-” Marianne caught herself. “Akko.”

Constanze finally finished scrolling and held her phone out again, showing her a video this time.  _ “Wow _ how did they get it to move like that?” Akko asked.

Constanze shook her head, jabbing her thumb at herself.

_ “You _ built that thing!?” Akko asked, dumbfounded.

Constanze nodded, determined smile on her face.

“Holy shit…” Akko trailed off. The mech’s movements looked incredible, walking around and striking poses. It struck another pose, and started to tilt a little, and Akko heard a screeching and scrambling sound coming from the video which was soon cut off by Constanze, who shoved her phone in her pocket with a huff.

“Hey, don’t be disappointed, that looked  _ amazing, _ Constanze!” Akko clapped her on the back, nearly sending Constanze sprawling and oops maybe she shouldn’t have forgotten how small she was. “Seriously I could never imagine making anything like that, so what if there’s a few bugs to iron out!”

Constanze looked up with a small smile.

“I agree with Akko, your mecha looked magnificent,” Marianne said, bowing her head appreciatively and making her spiky ponytail flick everywhere.

Akko pulled her phone back out with a smile on her face. Turns out some positivity was pretty nice sometimes. Building people up really did wonders for both your own self-esteem and theirs. Truly, a lesson to be treasured.

Just kidding.

Reply to  **_LadyBeatrice_ ** _ : _

Dunno what’s funnier, how badly I got under your skin, or how badly you’re failing at trying to deny it lmao. At least my fic was actually  _ about _ Shiny Chariot. Seriously, you wanna come at me about tagging fics wrong? All you did was write about a sad girl who had Chariot’s name! Why even write Shiny Chariot fanfic if you’re just gonna write something that has nothing to do with the show?

And you crap on my jokes? Wow that’s almost as funny as yours  _ aren’t! _

Anyway, I’d love to chat more, but I’m gonna be spending the evening doing something you  _ clearly _ haven’t done in a long time. I’m gonna watch Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot! With my friends! Have a nice night!

Posted: 2019-10-03 18:17:52 GMT (0000)

Heh, she even found a snappier way to say that joke LadyBeatrice had overdone! How’s  _ that _ for one-upping!

“Alright, we’ll start with the voting now!” Ursula called from the front. “All who want Cowboy Bebop, raise your hand!”

Wait, why was she starting with that? Shiny Chariot was the first thing on the list! Ursula went through a couple more, going down the list in order except missing the first one. Akko threw her hand up to attract her attention.

“Ah, twelve votes for Kill la Kill.” Ursula turned to write on the board.

“Not what I meant!” Akko shouted. “Actually, wait, yeah count my vote for that. But uh, you forgot about Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot!”

“Oh, did I?” Ursula looked up to the top of the board. “So I did, sorry! Votes for Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot, then?”

Akko’s hand stayed up, pushing a little higher as she strained out of her seat.

Marianne and Constanze both raised their hands too. Solidarity!

And… 

Where were the other hands?

“That’s three, I think?”

No! Nonono NO! Shiny Chariot couldn’t  _ lose! _ This was her perfect opportunity to introduce everyone to it! How was everyone gonna know about the greatest anime of all time if it didn’t even get picked!?

“Two more over here!”

Akko’s saviour appeared in her darkest hour. Amanda O’Neill had arrived, with another girl behind her carrying a veritable haul of snacks.

Amanda immediately dashed over, vaulted the desk and landed in the seat next to Constanze. “Figured I’d give this crap a try, see what has you two so big on it.”

“Nice!” Akko reached up for a high five.

“So  _ five _ votes for Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot.” Ursula corrected the note on the board. “Alright, votes for Death Note?”

* * *

Shiny Chariot ended up seventh place on the overall voting. Good enough. Constanze’s Gurren Lagann pick had made it to fifth as well. Akko had seen most of the shows on offer, but that was fine, the whole point was to introduce people like Amanda who were less familiar with anime.

And the first episode of Kill la Kill still  _ slapped, _ even on what must be her tenth time seeing it.

“I think I’m starting to get the hype,” Amanda said.

“Right!?” Akko grinned. “That animation in the fight outside the school? That dynamic spin around the whole courtyard is just insane, Trigger  _ do not _ miss.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, that was cool and all.” Amanda shrugged. “Not gonna lie, I was mostly talking about Ryuko’s tiddies.”

Akko burst out laughing. Amanda leaned back with a lecherous smirk, and Akko subtly tried to gauge the others’ reactions. Constanze was rolling her eyes, but nobody else seemed to be commenting. Was it really that OK to make a joke about how you found anime girls hot? “I mean, you’re not  _ wrong…” _ Akko said.

Amanda laughed along with her. No one else said anything. No one looked at her weirdly. That was… the first time Akko had ever made a joke or any kind of comment outside of the internet about finding a girl hot, animated or not.

And no one had judged her for it.

Well, maybe they were secretly judging her. Constanze’s eye-rolling  _ looked _ fond enough that Akko was willing to take it at face value. Marianne and Amanda’s friend who she’d introduced as “Jasna” hadn’t really said anything. Was this kinda thing really so commonplace that half of a group wouldn’t even bat an eyelid? England was weird.

Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it would have been the same back home, Akko had never actually tried and it had never really come up. OK so maybe she wasn’t gonna be commenting on anime girls’ boobs around her parents any time soon, but would it really have been so bad to try around her friends? If one of the guys had made that comment, no one would have cared, right?

Had she even told Amanda she was into girls? She  _ had  _ referred to gay people as “we” back in the Shooting Star, had that been a general thing or was she deliberately including Akko with her phrasing?

We.

Akko had never really, until this moment, considered that the concept of the “LGBT Community” included  _ her. _ It was… comforting. Particularly that word “community.” Sure, Akko had been in a few of those before, even if the Shiny Chariot fan community was about as dead as they got these days. But the idea of a community where Akko could just, like, openly talk about how she thought girls  _ and  _ boys were cute? Amazing.

And hey, maybe one of them would  _ be _ one of those cute girls! Maybe she’d be into anime! Maybe she’d love Shiny Chariot just as much as Akko did!

Well, almost as much.  _ No one _ loved Shiny Chariot as much as Akko did.

No prizes for guessing how Akko figured out she thought girls were cute.

“Doughnut?”

Akko was broken from her thoughts by Amanda’s friend reaching past her and holding a chocolate covered doughnut out.

“If I ever answer no to that question, the aliens have replaced me. Execute on sight.” Akko grabbed the doughnut with a grin. “Thanks, uh, Jasna was it?”

“Jasminka.” The girl shut her eyes with a happy smile. “Today is very nice, I hope you like!”

Akko liked. Akko liked  _ a lot. _ She tried  _ and failed _ to prevent an extremely happy noise from escaping as she took her first bite. “Thish… sho goob…” she sighed contentedly.

“Huh, guess you’re more into Jasna’s cooking than that Ryuko chick, eh Akko?” Amanda nudged her shoulder.

“You made this!?” Akko finished swallowing. “This is like, the nicest doughnut I’ve  _ ever _ had!”

“Thank you.” Jasminka smiled widely again.

“Seriously, Conz’s robots and Jasna’s cooking.” Akko shook her head in disbelief, turning to Amanda. “So what’s your secret super creative talent then?”

“Who me? Nah I don’t really have anything like that.” Amanda shrugged, leaning back. “I dance, I guess.”

“I do video editing,” Marianne offered.

_ AMVs, _ Akko knew immediately. But hey, some of those were pretty awesome. She remembered a few Shiny Chariot ones from like 2010 that she’d looped for  _ days. _ “Sweet! I’m studying animation here so that’s kinda my thing,” Akko said, grinning. “Oh, and I write a bit, but I’m not great.”

“It’s very impressive that you write at all in your second language,” Marianne said. “I struggle sometimes with essays in English.”

Akko shrugged. “I guess? I’ve always been alright at languages I guess, and writing was a great way to practice.” This conversation was getting dangerously close to Akko admitting she wrote anime fanfic in front of people she’d met on single digit occasions. But then she’d already admitted to the fact she was  _ bi _ in front of them so would that really be a step too far.

“Spiky girl’s right,” Amanda said. “I can barely speak English right half the time and it’s the only language I got.” She laughed loudly, “Can’t even speak a word of Irish,  _ and _ I’m goin’ to college with limeys. Ancestors all rolling in their graves, I tell ya.”

“Irish? I thought you were American?” Akko asked.

“I mean, hello? Red hair? New Yorker?  _ O’Neill?” _ Amanda raised an eyebrow.

Akko must have looked as confused as she felt because Amanda lowered the eyebrow sheepishly. “Oh yeah I guess you wouldn’t get the significance there.” She shrugged. “Yeah like my entire family background’s Irish, both sides. Only visited twice myself, wedding and a funeral. Weird thing is, the funeral was the bigger party.”

“Huh. That’s cool though,” Akko said, quieting down as Ursula tried—with some difficulty and an accidental click on an ad that sent her to a  _ very _ questionable site that was immediately closed—to load up the first episode of Gurren Lagann.

Constanze was practically mouthing along with every line, an excited smile on her face as she shared her favourite show with the rest of the society. Amanda, of course, barely paid any attention until Yoko showed up, whereupon she wolf-whistled. Loudly.

“You know she’s meant to be fourteen, right?” Akko whispered to her.

“I’m sorry in  _ what _ world is that a fourteen year old!?” Amanda whisper-yelled back.

“Anime is… weird sometimes,” Akko acknowledged.

The rest of the episode passed without incident, aside from Akko, Constanze, and half of the goddamn room popping off as one for,  _ “Believe in the me that believes in you!”  _ Akko could barely even sit still through the next show, her excitement building to a fever pitch in preparation for the seventh anime of the night.

“Alright,” Ursula started. “Up next we have Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot!”

“Yay!” Akko yelled. “Get ready everyone, this is the  _ best show ever!” _

A few people were sending her weird looks but  _ most  _ of them looked a little curious. Perhaps, even, reservedly excited. Heh, they were right to be. This was gonna blow them away.

A flash of light appeared on the screen, an all encompassing brightness that quickly faded to those famous seven stars of Ursa Major, glowing brightly as the title card appeared.

Akko mouthed along with the opening.  _ “Shinjiru kokoro ga anata no mahou!” _


	5. Disposable Cameras

_“Shinjiru kokoro ga anata no mahou!”_

Akko gazed at the screen in wide-eyed wonder. She’d never seen this show before, but the opening was absolutely _mesmerising._ Vibrant flashes of colour and light punctuated nearly every beat of the upbeat J-Pop tune that played along with the video. The characters moved across the screen with an explosive energy that was so ridiculous, so exaggerated that it could never be called “realistic” yet it looked far better than any “real” action scene Akko had ever seen.

“Akko! I thought you were supposed to be doing your homework,” Otou-san chided her, stepping into the room with a disapproving look that failed to mask the fond smile on his face.

“All finished, Tou-san!” Akko lied.

“Oh? That was very quick,” Otou-san said, clearly very impressed. “Why don’t you show me how well you did it.”

“Um,” Akko started. “I can’t! Because, um, I have to, um-”

“Akko-hime, you don’t have to lie to me.” Otou-san smiled knowingly at her.

“Sorry!” Akko wailed. “I just really wanna watch this, it looks so cool!” Akko gestured at the show on the screen, which had finished playing the opening and flashed to the title card and she was gonna miss the start of it at this rate!

“Hmm, and you’ll definitely do your homework after it’s finished?” Otou-san asked.

“Yep!”

 _“And_ you’ll be finished in time for dinner?”

“Uh huh!”

“And you’ll do all your chores after?”

“Touuu-saaan,” Akko wailed. “Of coooouuuurse!”

“Alright then.” Otou-san ruffled her hair. “Have fun, princess.”

“Thank you!” Akko gave her father a quick hug, and he left Akko to her own devices once more. She returned to the screen immediately. A girl with red hair and red eyes glowing with determination was dancing across the screen, tracing strange and wondrous shapes in the air with her magic wand. Flashes of luminescent green light accompanied her every action, popping off the screen with a vibrancy and life that Akko had _never_ seen in any show she’d watched before.

Akko remembered Obaa-san talking about how TV didn’t have colours back when she was Akko’s age, about how incredible it had been when she’d first seen a programme with colour, how excited she and everyone else had been to see the massive difference. Akko now knew _exactly_ what Obaa-san meant.

By the time the introductory performance was done, Akko was hooked. Then the red-haired girl introduced herself as “Shiny Chariot,” and told everyone about her dream to become a great witch who made everyone happy through the wonder of magic. Akko was transfixed. There was nothing she wanted more in this world than to see Chariot succeed.

The twenty-two minutes of the episode burned themselves into Akko’s brain. She could probably have recited the entire thing back, with every word and every spell and every cool effect she could cram in.

Which is exactly what she did.

The entirety of dinner was spent with Akko telling her very excited parents about the incredible show she’d just watched. As Akko was detailing “how super cool it looked when she fired the Shiny Arc at the cockatrice!” she realised that she’d forgotten to explain what the Shiny Arc was! But before she could explain _that,_ Otou-san said something that would change her life forever.

“That all sounds very exciting, darling. Would you like me to find out when the next episode is airing?”

Next.

Episode.

_There were going to be more!?_

“Yes yes yes thank you so much Otou-san!” Akko leapt out of her chair to give him the tightest hug she could manage, and she was _very_ strong for a six year old!

* * *

Shiny Chariot became the highlight of Akko’s week. She’d spend her days counting down to the next time she could watch Chariot’s amazing adventures. Chariot was all she would talk about at school, or at home. Her parents used to joke that Chariot was her best friend. Well, _they_ would joke. Akko knew the truth.

Of course, some of the other kids watched the show too. Akko had been so excited when she first found out that Rena who sat two seats over had seen Shiny Chariot! She couldn’t wait to talk to her all about it!

So she did.

After just fifteen minutes of talking about Shiny Chariot, Rena got bored and went to talk to Keiichi.

The same happened with Miyo, and Shion and Jirou. They were all happy to talk about Shiny Chariot, then they got bored when Akko had just got going! She hadn’t even started talking about how cool the spells looked when Jirou walked off!

It didn’t make any sense, _why_ didn’t anyone want to talk about the show as much as she did? Did they just not like Shiny Chariot? But they _said_ they liked it, so why didn’t they want to talk about it any more? Did they not like _Akko?_

At least when Akko was upset, she always knew how to cheer herself up. She got out her scrapbook, and she started to draw.

She drew herself and Chariot as witches. The best witches! Amazing witches who would make everyone happy with how cool their magic was! Akko had got really good at drawing Chariot’s spells, like that _perfect_ drawing of the Fairy Light Spell that Okaa-san had stuck on the fridge.

But as Akko drew more and more, she started to realise a problem. No matter how well she drew the spells, they never looked as good as they did in the show! The same went for the characters. She could spend hours and hours drawing Chariot—sometimes Croix or Alcor or herself as a witch, but mostly Chariot of course—but no matter how she tried, she could never make her look as cool as she did in the show!

In the show, it always felt like Chariot was a moment away from exploding right off the screen with the sheer vibrancy and energy, but Akko could never recreate that! She’d even tried to ask Kaa-chan to get her some fireworks so she could _make_ her drawing explode off the page, but she’d been told no! How unfair was that!

It was while musing on the cosmic injustice of a world in which she couldn’t use fireworks to make her drawings explode, that Akko finally realised the problem.

Her drawings didn’t _move._

It was so obvious she felt like smacking herself in the head—actually, she was pretty sure she _did_ do that when she realised—her drawings couldn’t _move!_

So all she needed to do was figure out a way to make them do that! Shouldn’t take her too long.

Aaany moment now.

… 

_Why wasn’t she having any ideas!?_

Akko balled her hands in her hair, fighting to stop herself from screaming in frustration. Was there no way? Was she doomed to forever be stuck with boring, stationary drawings that could never be as cool as Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot!?

* * *

The next day, Akko wouldn’t get out of bed. It was a weekend, so she wasn’t late to school or anything, so really it was completely unfair that Kaa-chan was so insistent that she couldn’t just lie in bed forever and ever and ever because her drawings would never be able to move.

After a couple minutes of protracted negotiations—which were mostly extended bouts of saying “get out of bed” and “no!” at each other over and over again—Kaa-chan made a strategic tactical retreat. Victory for Akko!

Maybe thirty seconds later, the door cracked open again, and Tou-san set himself down gently on Akko’s bed. “I hear you’re having trouble with your drawings, Akko-hime?”

Akko nodded furiously. Her head was buried beneath a blanket, but she knew he’d be able to tell.

“What’s wrong? Okaa-san and I both love your drawings, and you’re getting so much better!” Tou-san gently set his hand roughly where Akko’s shoulder was beneath the blanket.

“They don’t move.”

“They don’t move?”

Akko’s head popped up from the blanket, rolling over to face her father. “My drawings don’t move! Not like they do in Shiny Chariot!”

“Is that it?” Tou-san said seriously. Akko nodded. “Well, why don’t you come to the computer with me, I have something I can show you that might help?”

Akko hesitantly wiggled her way out of bed, still in her pyjamas. “You sure it’ll help?”

“Positive. Why don’t you get dressed, and come join me once you’ve had some breakfast?”

“Don’t want breakfast.” Akko crossed her arms.

“No computer until you’ve had breakfast, that’s the rule, Akko.” Otou-san said seriously.

“Fiiine,” Akko agreed.

In the end, she wound up sat on her father’s knee, happily munching her way through a small bowl of omurice—Kaa-chan had even added a bit of furirake!—as he searched for something on the computer, clicking through a site Akko had never seen called niconico.

“Ah, here we are,” he said, clicking an image. After a few seconds of loading, a video began to play. Various people chattered on the screen, while it showed them drawing on large canvases.

“Animation is all about… _action,”_ one of them said. “The dynamic aspect is what makes it different to just looking at a painting, so everything we do is with that _action_ in mind.”

A quick clip played, of a cartoon character walking in a ridiculous motion, expanding and stretching all over the place as they walked. Akko couldn’t help but giggle at it, it looked so silly, but it was still clearly a person walking. The clip slowed down, and it showed a quick succession of drawings, detailing each individual part of the character’s walk.

The video cut back to the artists, and this time Akko could see that one of them was drawing one of those images from the slow-motion version of the walk. “So how many of these will you have to draw?” A voice said, from off the screen.

“You need twenty-four every second,” the artist responded, still focusing on his drawing. “So this five second clip will need about a hundred and twenty drawings.”

“That’s quite a lot, if each one takes you this much effort,” the interviewer said.

The artist laughed. “That’s what they pay us for.”

The video continued to show different aspects of the process. How they would draw the backgrounds before they started, then draw the characters moving on top of those, to save having to draw the backgrounds every single time. How they’d start with specific “key frames” that they’d fill the spaces between, so they could always have something to refer back to as their start and endpoint. How they’d take photos of every picture then put those pictures together, to finally give that effect of movement that Akko craved.

Akko’s eyes were already wide with awe. It was everything she’d ever wanted. And she could still do her drawings! All that time she’d spent learning how to draw wouldn’t have been wasted, it was just the first step on learning how to do this cool moving type of drawing! Animation!

“So, are you less worried now?” Tou-san ruffled her hair as the video came to a close.

“Is that how they make Shiny Chariot!?” Akko asked, looking up at her father in wonder.

“I’m sure it’s something like that,” Tou-san said. “Why don’t we look it up.”

A couple more clicks, and they were now on a brightly decorated site, covered with pictures of Chariot and her friends. “Let’s see… Ah, here it is! Production staff.” Another click, and they were greeted by an array of smiling people, each with a name and title beneath. Voice Actresses… Audio Engineers… “Hm, that’s strange.”

“What?”

“Seems there’s barely any animators actually working on this show.” Tou-san scratched his head. “Only one I can find is this one here without a picture.”

A blank outline sat over a single name.

Shichisei Hokuto. Director, Animation Director, Writer.

“One person did all that animation!?” Akko nearly screamed with shock.

“There’s probably more, just uncredited.” Tou-san shrugged. “Weird, maybe it’s outsourced or something?” He clicked on Hokuto’s empty outline image, and it took them to a more detailed page.

_Shichisei Hokuto is the creator and director of Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot!_

_Graduated Luna Nova University, June 2006._

_Interests: Magic, Flying, The Moon, Crows, Brooms._

“Graduated last year?” Tou-san’s eyebrows rose. “Very impressive to be directing a show so young.”

Akko nodded, but her mind was elsewhere, already working overtime.

Now she had _two_ people she wanted to be. And one of them was real.

* * *

Akko spent the next month doing extra chores and saving up pocket money. Not a penny was spent. No snacks, no toys. She even went out of her way to draw on the back of the pages of her notebook, scrunching her drawings up small so she could reuse more of the same page. Anything to make it last longer so she’d have enough pages spare for her plan.

She bought a disposable camera.

With painstaking effort, she drew twenty-four pictures of Chariot casting the crow transformation spell on herself, ending with a big flash at the end as she returned to her witch form. She took pictures of each one, taking care not to accidentally click twice, or miss a page. She only had one chance, after all.

After a month of planning and a week of drawing, it was done. Akko gave the film to the lady at the kiosk in the shopping complex, and waited excitedly with her parents. She grabbed the finished photos greedily out of the lady’s hands, clutching them to her chest with glee as her parents took her to Burger King to celebrate.

As soon as she sat down with Kaa-chan, Akko stacked up the photos on the table. The moment of truth.

She flipped through them.

It looked… OK. Akko had been sure she’d lined up the photos all exactly in line, but flipping through the drawings looked jerky, as if her hands had been shaking while she held the camera.

And the drawings themselves weren’t perfect either. Even when Akko lined up the photos so they didn’t look so shaky, the drawings didn’t quite go from one to the next as smoothly as Akko had thought they would. Rather than the smooth transition she’d planned, Chariot and her crow form jumped around in jerky, uneven motions.

Hardly the triumphant success she’d expected for her first animation.

Oh well. Only one thing for it.

Akko went straight back to the lady at the kiosk, and bought another roll of film.

* * *

For her eighth birthday, Akko’s parents bought her a fancier camera that could print its own photos. She still needed to buy the film itself, but now she didn’t have to get taken to the camera kiosk to get them developed!

For her ninth birthday, they went one better.

“A new camera!” Akko held up the sleek silver box. “What’s this?” She looked intrigued at the screen on the back, just below the eye-hole.

“It’s called a digital camera. It doesn’t have film, so it won’t run out and you can take as many pictures as you want,” Kaa-chan said. “Otou-san asked the shopkeeper all about how it works, why don’t you tell her, dear?”

Akko held the camera out, palms up, offering it to Tou-san. He chuckled. “Why don’t you try taking some photos with it?”

“Kay!” Akko immediately snapped a couple of pictures of her parents.

Tou-san crouched down next to her, pressing a button on the camera. Immediately, the photo she’d just taken appeared on the screen. “It shows you the photos you’ve taken, and you can look through all of your photos and decide which ones you like and which ones you want to try doing again.”

The chance to correct her mistakes? No more worrying about her shaky hands ruining yet another project? It was like all her dreams had come true at once! “Thanks!” Akko set the camera down and hugged her parents in turn.

“But that’s not the best part!” Tou-san lifted the camera and brought it over to the computer. “I had to get this bit explained to me a lot, but I got the nice young man in the shop to write out the instructions so you can follow them.” He connected a wire from the computer to the camera, and after a couple of clicks, the photos she’d taken were sitting there proudly in the middle of the screen!

“And then,” he said, clicking another program, Windows Movie Maker, “if we go to this program. We can, um-” he stopped to check the instructions, “ah, here it is. Import the photos, and, tada!”

The photos appeared on the screen in the new program. “I’m not entirely sure how to get it working, but he told me that if you put your photos into this program, you’ll be able to turn them into a video.”

Into a video.

A video.

She could turn her drawings… into a video.

Tears spilled freely down Akko’s cheeks.

“Thank you so much.”

* * *

It worked.

It _actually worked!_

It took Akko most of the day getting good enough photos of her most recent project—herself and Chariot firing the Shiny Arc together!—and fiddling with Windows Movie Maker, but after hours of effort, she finally had something to show for it.

A short video played on the computer, showing all of her drawings in quick succession.

It looked _amazing!_

The way they both drew the bow back, the shifts on their faces as the light exploded— _exploded!—_ out from the screen!

It didn’t look quite like Shiny Chariot. Yet.

But she was most of the way there, now she just needed to draw even better.

Akko got so caught up in her drawing and photographing that she _almost_ missed the season finale airing tonight.

Almost.

* * *

Akko sat transfixed, almost touching the screen with her nose as Chariot battled her way to the top of the New Moon Tower. This season’s villain had been the nastiest yet, and all of Chariot’s friends had already been defeated earlier in the episode. It was down to Chariot to save the day!

Chariot reached the top of the tower, shining with magic as she faced off against the Noir Spirit. It turned to her, a wicked red glow coming from behind its jagged rows of black teeth as it cackled. “You’re too late, witch! Nothing can stop me from taking over this school now!”

Chariot heaved a deep breath, raising the Shiny Rod. _“Noctu…”_

The spirit laughed harder. “Another spell? See how much good it did all of your friends! I wonder which of them I’ll devour first?”

 _“Orfei…”_ A dramatic wind blasted Chariot’s hair and robes back as the Shiny Rod began to transform.

“Oho! I can actually _feel_ that!” The Noir Spirit hummed in approval. “Tell you what, I’ll give you one free shot. See how much good it does you.” The grin returned in full force.

Akko knew it was a trap. No villain would ever _willingly_ get hit by the Shiny Arc, would they? Not unless they had some kind of secret plan. Her heart caught in her throat as she watched Chariot charge her ultimate attack. Akko was smart enough to know she couldn’t _warn_ Chariot, but young enough to _wish so much_ that she could.

 _“Aude!”_ Chariot shouted, the Shiny Rod fully transforming into an enormous bow, taller than Chariot herself.

“Give it up!” The Noir Spirit said. “Without your friends, you’re nothing! Without their belief to power you, your spell won’t even _scratch_ me! Do your worst, witch!”

“Chariot!” A voice called from off-screen. The Noir Spirit’s eyes whipped around in shock to see Croix, battered and bruised, out of breath from her sprint up the New Moon Tower. “What are you doing trying to fight it on your own!?”

Chariot didn’t even turn to Croix, eyes dead set on the Noir Spirit as the bow glowed with an impossibly bright light, almost hurting Akko’s eyes as it shone off the screen. _“Fraetor!”_

“No!” Croix called.

 _“Shiiinyyy… ARC!”_ An explosion of light erupted from the bow. Croix held her arms out, offering Chariot the power of her dreams as the blast of light eviscerated the Noir Spirit. The arrow cleaved straight through the centre of the monster, obliterating it from the inside out, its dying screams lost in the roar of pure magic.

Chariot floated to the ground, the blast having knocked her into the air.

Croix slumped down next to her, completely exhausted.

“Croix!” Chariot dropped the Shiny Rod as she ran to her friend’s side. “Are you OK?”

Croix weakly raised her head. She looked… drained. Completely spent. “It worked…” Croix whispered. “I didn’t think I’d have enough…”

“What do you mean?” Chariot said, tears forming in her eyes. “Did the Shiny Arc hurt you? Croix I’m so sorry-”

Croix coughed. “It’s not that.” She heaved a deep breath, looking up at Chariot, still holding her in her arms. “I’m sorry… I never told you…”

“Never told me what?” Chariot asked, leaning in a little closer. She leaned so close that it almost looked like she was going to give Croix a ki-

“About the power of dreams. What it really is.” Croix said, slumping back.

“What do you mean?” The music turned dark, ominous, as Chariot’s eyes clouded over with uncertainty.

“Dream Fuel Spirit,” Croix said. “That’s what you’ve been using this whole time. It’s a magical siphon that I developed. It drains the magical power of nearby witches to power your magic.”

“Wh-what?” Chariot reeled back in shock. Croix fell out of her arms, landing limply on the floor. “You don’t mean… it doesn’t _steal_ their magic forever, does it?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No…” Chariot whispered. “Croix, this can’t be true. It’s all just a joke, right?”

Croix turned her head, looking directly at her best friend. “It was the only way. Please forgive me.”

“No.” Chariot said. The animation pulled back, revealing a dark shot of the New Moon Tower, outlined against the inky blackness of night as Chariot screamed, “No!”

The credits rolled. No upbeat J-Pop. No bright colours. Only darkness as the familiar names scrolled past the screen.

Akko sat in complete silence, too shocked to even move.

What the _heck_ had just happened?

* * *

The seven stars burst across the screen again, as the ED began to play. Akko’s eyes were glowing, mouthing along to the words before she remembered she was with friends. “So, did you all love it!?”

Constanze threw her something halfway between a shrug and a thumbs up.

“Magical girl shows aren’t really my thing, but that was fun,” Marianne said.

“Eh, it was OK,” Amanda said.

“Seriously?” Akko protested. “Did you not see how cool the animation was?”

“I mean, I thought that Kill la Kill show looked cooler, if that’s what you’re asking?” Amanda said. “And not just cause of Ryuko’s rack, before you say it.”

“I wasn’t gonna!” said Akko, who absolutely _was_ gonna. “And besides, it came out like six years later, of course it’s gonna look better.”

Around the room, there seemed to be similar mumblings. No one was calling it crap or anything, but most of them seemed to be of the opinion that it was just… OK.

Years ago, that would have pissed Akko off. She’d have been yelling at Amanda, or everyone else who’d given it a shrug and a “meh,” shouting at them to watch it again and appreciate how amazing the animation was, how inspiring Chariot was as a character. Of course, the urge had never really gone away, Akko had just… learned that it never really helped anything.

“I enjoyed it,” Jasminka said, offering Akko a tray bake. “Like you said about the animation, very expressive and cute.”

“I respect you and only you, Jasminka.” Akko took the tray bake with a grin. “At least _someone_ around here has good taste.”

Amanda grinned back. “What, you mad I said your waifu was just OK?”

Akko nearly fell off her chair. “One, _how_ do you know that word. Two, Chariot is _not_ my waifu!”

Akko turned to glare at Constanze, who was hastily lowering her board. Traitor! Whatever happened to their solidarity!? “Constanze, how could you? And after I voted for Gurren Lagann and everything?”

Constanze smiled up at her, and doodled something on her board, flipping it around to reveal two drawings of _giant-mecha-doodle_ > _magical-girl-doodle._

“I’m surrounded by heathens,” Akko sighed dramatically, pulling out her phone. Maybe she should overexaggerate the sigh a bit more? Make sure it was obvious she was just joking? Everyone else seemed to be grinning and laughing so hopefully they got that she wasn’t actually too upset or anything. It was all in good fun, right?

She opened her emails.

**Edgar’sBitch** left the following comment on **_A Witch’s Adventure!_ ** _:_

Holy shit what the fuck is even _wrong_ with you? You could write for a thousand years and you would NEVER even approach LadyBeatrice’s level. Know your place, you fucking scum.

Honestly I don’t know why you even bother. Your writing is a joke. Your fic is a joke. YOU are a joke. How you have the _audacity_ to even consider speaking to her _at all_ is beyond my fucking comprehension.

You are worthless. Fuck off into a hole where you belong, and stay there for the rest of your miserable, shitty life.

Posted: 2019-10-03 21:57:49 GMT (0000)

Akko stared at her screen, completely numb. More comments started to fly in from the same account. _“Trash”_ on the second chapter. _“Holy shit are you seven or just braindead?”_ on the third. _“Are they_ all _this bad or do you not get bored of being this much of a failure?”_ on the fourth.

“Guys I… think I need to go lie down.” Akko said, rising from her seat.

“Hey, you OK?” Amanda asked. She probably looked concerned. Akko wasn’t looking. “Hey, we were just ribbin’ ya about the show, y’know? It wasn’t that bad or anything.”

Akko nodded absentmindedly, stepping past Marianne on her way out. She walked down the steps, feeling her body drop like a stone with each one.

“Akko!” Ursula called over to her, as she made it to the door. “Is everything alright?”

Akko paused for a second, hand on the door. “No. Not really.”

She left without a further word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof.
> 
> (Also sorry this took like nearly 3 weeks sometimes it just be like that)


	6. Bouncing Back

Having dimmed the lights, Diana set the needle down. The vinyl began to spin, and the first strains of music graced her ears. She nodded to herself, Chopin was an _excellent_ choice for the evening.

She leafed through her notebook, reaching her most recent set of ideas. Now, which to write? Her mood was nowhere near dark enough for the piece about Croix wrestling with self-harm urges. Maybe the vignettes of Chariot’s happy life with her mother juxtaposed against her current existence? Or perhaps she could even try her hand again at something more… carnal.

No. Vignettes it would be.

Diana flicked through to the section of her notebook where she’d recorded her ideas for this particular topic. Each topic was neatly categorised, with two pages each dedicated to scene ideas, specific lines to use, and the overall themes and tone she wished to set with the piece as a whole.

She checked that last section first. _Nostalgia_ sat at the top, below it were nestled bullet-points outlining her plans to detail the pain inherent to nostalgia for a time that could never be again. _Loss_ was another, with particular focus to be paid to the idea of the way loss sank into the rest of one’s life like a poison. The way it could turn even happy moments into bitter lamentations that they could not be shared with those lost to you.

Actually, that was quite a good line on its own. Too on the nose, perhaps? Diana flicked back to the section for quotes and lines. No harm in writing it down, at least. She set her notebook on her desk, and reached for her pen.

This was not a task to be undertaken lightly. The ornate case opened with a soft click, revealing the Montblanc fountain pen within. Diana carefully checked it over, she’d cleaned it a little over a week ago, but she was nothing if not excessively cautious about her mother’s final gift.

Having finished her scrutiny, Diana uncapped the pen, taking a moment to simply appreciate the smell of fresh ink, the balance of the pen in her hand, the scratching noise against the paper of her well-maintained notebook as she wrote the line, mingling perfectly with the _stretto_ section that heralded the conclusion of Chopin’s _Nocturne No. 2._

All was as it should be.

…Except for the fact she couldn’t remember that _bloody_ line she’d thought of during her lecture. It had been bouncing around her head for a solid hour after that but it’d been dislodged completely by that damned response from the girl with the ridiculous self-insert story. And her ridiculous gif of Chariot flipping her off.

And _why_ couldn’t she remember that _bloody stupid gif!?_

It’d been driving her insane ever since she saw it. It was clearly from the show, but no matter how Diana wracked her brain, she couldn’t place it at all. Was it from a blooper reel? Couldn’t be, Diana owned all of the special editions of every season. She’d seen every bit of bonus footage, every text-overlaid directors’ commentary, and yes, every blooper. If the flipping off clip had been in one of those, Diana would have surely remembered it, wouldn’t she?

Although… it _had_ been a while, hadn’t it?

Years, in fact.

 _“_ _I’m gonna be spending the evening doing something you clearly haven’t done in a long time. I’m gonna watch Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot! With my friends!”_

Why did she feel so guilty? She was busy, and definitely did not have time spare to rewatch four entire seasons of anime. It had been difficult enough to set the time aside for her writing this evening, and she _did_ need to read a little further ahead before the clinical practice section of the course began. Free time was a luxury, and one that she shouldn’t be wasting thinking about annoying smart-alecs on the internet who had enough time to spare to sit and rewatch a show she’d probably seen a hundred times.

As if Diana hadn’t.

It had never stopped her before, so why was it now? And that “with my friends” part. Why had Diana never asked Barbara or Hannah to watch Chariot with her? Barbara already read all of her fanfic, frankly it was strange to ask her to do so _without_ watching the show, wasn’t it?

But what if… 

What if it _wasn’t_ as good as Diana remembered?

The thought shouldn’t terrify her as much as it did, but Shiny Chariot was such a huge part of her life and had been for so long. Like most people, she’d discovered the online fan community shortly after season four finished airing. Fans were desperately speculating, theorising and predicting how the huge twist was going to play out in the next season, and Diana couldn’t get enough. She devoured through every speculative forum thread, every crazy conspiracy video, and when even _that_ couldn’t satisfy her desperate craving for more Shiny Chariot content, she’d discovered fan fiction.

There was so much of it in those days. So many continuations, alterations, variations, or even entirely different universes and Diana had read them _all._ Well, except the ones where Chariot was in love with any of the boys, _obviously._

Of course, after a time just reading hadn’t been enough either, and she found she _had_ to give back to this wonderful show and its wonderful community by writing herself. And she’d got quite good at it, if she said so herself. After her mother… after It Happened, she’d lost herself in rewatching the show over and over, finding comfort in writing the characters she’d come to love so much.

Would it… would it all be meaningless, if the show wasn’t actually all that good?

Would it mean anything anyway? The few friends she’d made in the community had long since departed to greener pastures, or simply drifted apart, the way internet friends do when you’re twelve.

At least back on fanfiction.net she’d been able to message her commenters, that wasn’t even an option in the Archive era. Barbara kept encouraging her to make a Tumblr account so she could connect with fans on there, but what was the point? She was the queen of a dead fandom, one who couldn’t even remember a clip of the main character flipping the _bloody_ bird.

Right. That was it. Diana slammed her notebook down, and carefully dried the end of her pen before returning it to its case. Chopin was interrupted, and her laptop was opened. She was going to find what episode that gif was from if it _killed_ her.

* * *

Diana still hadn’t found the source. She’d tried reverse searching the gif, but all she’d really been able to find were people using it as a reaction on various social media platforms. And it was _surprisingly_ popular on that front, to the point where it was making finding the _original_ source shockingly difficult.

Diana was willing to bet that the vast majority of people using it had never even watched or heard of Shiny Chariot, if all those “AnimeGirlFlippingYouOff.gif” file names were anything to go by. Digging through _those_ hadn’t helped either, obviously.

An idea struck her. Could she search by date? Older usages would more likely have been by Chariot fans, back before the gif had taken off as an all purpose anime “meme.” Perhaps they would be more likely to have included a source.

And so she did.

…Why couldn’t she find any uses of it from earlier than 2017!? That made no sense at all! Shiny Chariot had been cancelled in _2009,_ why had a random clip that Diana couldn’t remember suddenly exploded into popular meme culture a full eight years later!?

Diana Cavendish would never understand memes. Frankly, it upset her that she knew enough about them to be annoyed by this particular one.

A knock rapped against her door.

A weaker person would have howled in frustration. Which is why all _Diana_ did was let out a long sigh, flick her laptop shut, and call out, “Yes, girls?”

“It’s just me, Barbara’s out,” Hannah said through the door. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Diana said, quickly glancing around for anything that would possibly arouse suspicion. Oh heavens her notebook was sitting open _right there_ on her desk-

“Actually, makes more sense if you come out here,” Hannah said, nudging the door open a little and poking her head in. “Homework help,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Ah, I’ll be right out, then,” Diana said, rising from her chair, maintaining a carefully neutral mask that disguised her relief at Hannah _not_ seeing her fanfiction planning notes.

Fortunately, the homework help hadn’t been as bad as anticipated. Hannah had even made her a cup of tea as thanks, which was really quite unnecessary since all Diana had done was sit there while Hannah talked through her Intro to Finance homework and figured out the correct approach herself, but it was still nice to be of assistance in some way.

“You seem to be progressing well,” Diana said, carrying her half-finished mug with her back towards her room. “Do let me know if you have any further difficulty.”

“You’re heading back to your room already?” Hannah said, looking up from her assignment disappointedly.

“Should I not be? You have the problem well in hand, and I was going to return to my leisure time now,” Diana said.

“Oh, OK,” Hannah said. “I thought we could watch a trashy movie or something, been forever since we’ve had a proper girls’ night.”

Diana arched an eyebrow. “You haven’t finished your assignment yet.”

“Seriously, mother?” Hannah arched an eyebrow of her own back.

Diana’s ice cold gaze was unchanged. “Complete your assignment first, Hannah. With any luck, by the time you’re done Barbara will have returned.”

“God, fine.” Hannah rolled her eyes exaggeratedly as she returned to her work. “Hey, before you go?”

Diana stopped, halfway out the door of the living room.

“Thanks for the help.” Hannah shot her a small smile.

“It was no trouble.” Diana nodded.

On the way back to her room, the front door clicked open, letting in the brisk chill of the late-night October air, as well as Barbara.

“Good evening,” Diana said, inclining her head, “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

Barbara shrugged. “Was a bust, Andrew was too busy with actually running the society he’s president of, can you believe the gall?”

Diana sniffed.

“Look it’s not my fault he’s _gorgeous,_ OK?” Barbara rolled her eyes.

“I fail to see it,” Diana commented.

“Seriously? He’s like, perfect,” Barbara said, trailing off as she caught Diana’s nonplussed expression. “And you’re, uh, gay… so…”

“Well remembered,” Diana said drily.

“I’m just gonna leave this conversation before I make it any worse,” Barbara said, heading for the door to the living room. “Oh, wait, before I go.” She snapped back to look at Diana, a grin on her face. “Solved that problem you were having with that weirdo on AO3.”

Diana nodded, turning to leave.

Then she froze.

“Barbara…” Diana turned back round. “What, exactly, did you do?”

* * *

The fic was gone.

Diana tried logging out, just in case BelievingHeart625 had somehow blocked her. Not that she was aware that Archive of Our Own even had such a feature, but she had to check. She even made a fresh account, just in case she’d blocked Diana and put the fic on invisible to guests, but no, it was completely gone.

And with it, any way for Diana to apologise for Barbara’s _shameful_ behaviour.

That had been _completely_ too far! Barbara had, with some reluctance, explained the gist of her messages. Of course, the actual message was deleted so Diana couldn’t see exactly how bad it was, but she had no doubt that it was _significantly_ worse than Barbara was letting on. She’d seen some of Barbara’s more _strongly-worded_ comments before now.

She began scouring random stories from the Shiny Chariot tag, digging through the comments sections to see if BelievingHeart625 had left a comment on them which she could reply to. Something, _anything._

She came up empty.

Had she seriously never left any comments? Maybe Diana was looking in the wrong places, what kind of stories was she likely to have enjoyed? Based on their interactions, ones that hewed close to canon. Probably long-runners, if her own was anything to go by?

 _Heavens_ there were a lot of long, abandoned fics in this fandom.

A lot of long, abandoned fics without a single comment from BelievingHeart625.

She closed the tab with a heavy sigh. That was it, she supposed. No way to contact her. No way to make amends. She’d just have to live with the consequences of Barbara having bullied someone out of a fandom they clearly loved.

Her eyes refocused on the previous tab she had open, a search for uses of that Chariot flipping off gif.

And right in the middle of the page, Chariot flipped her off from a Twitter post from a user named “ShinyAkko” with the handle @BelievingHeart625, all the way back in 2017.

She clicked the profile.

A quick glance revealed her timeline to be a roughly half-and-half mashup of anime pictures and left-wing political issues. An odd mix to be sure, but there _were_ a lot of Shiny Chariot related retweets. And between the name and handle, this had to be her, right?

Diana didn’t have a Twitter account, but that was a matter easily solved. Now all she had to do was send a message apologising for Barbara’s behaviour, a simple matter.

Diana stared at the screen.

She stared some more.

She willed her fingers to move on the keyboard. This shouldn’t be difficult. She’d published nearly a million words of fan fiction for heaven’s sakes, _why_ was she struggling so much to type a simple apology?

Almost unconsciously, her hand went to her pen.

* * *

Akko’s phone buzzed again. She ignored it.

Why couldn’t she sleep? It was past midnight by now and she’d been alternating between lying in bed with her eyes shut, lying in bed staring at the wall, and lying in bed staring at the ceiling for roughly two hours.

She just wanted to sleep. She’d feel better tomorrow, right? She always did. She bounced back, right? Hell, she’d bounced back so hard from that comment from Beatrice that she’d been almost having _fun_ with their little back and forth together. All it had taken that time was a couple chicken wings and some great advice from Amanda.

So why was she still staring at the ceiling this time?

This was “bouncing” in kinda the same way that Akko “bounced” that time she fell off the banister at school and concussed herself on the floor.

Her phone buzzed again.

Akko launched it across the room.

Bits of casing, battery and SIM card went flying everywhere. Immediately, she regretted her decision, leaping off her bed and grabbing the disparate pieces of her phone to stick them back together. She found the main body of her phone with the screen lying face down, and almost couldn’t bear to look.

Oh thank God it was only cracked a little bit. She put the battery and SIM back in place, the back of the phone fitting with a snug _crack._

It still turned on.

OK.

OK.

Maybe sometimes it didn’t matter if you bounced _well,_ only that you bounced at all.

A knock sounded at her door.

“Hey, um, are you OK?” Lotte asked. “Amanda told me you’re not answering your phone and she’s worried about you.”

Akko let out the breath she’d been holding, feeling her body deflate, the tension leaving her shoulders but not the knot of anxiety bubbling in her gut. Good as she was gonna get, she guessed.

Akko clicked the door open, revealing a concerned Lotte standing in the hall in her pyjamas. She flinched as soon as she saw Akko, clearly at a loss for what to say. “What happened?” she said eventually.

Akko stepped back, wordlessly allowing Lotte to enter. She flicked through her phone, trying not to notice the way Lotte looked at the obvious cracks that she’d just given it, before holding out the email with Edgar’s Bitch’s comment.

Lotte gasped, raising a hand to her mouth sadly as she continued to read.

“There’s more,” Akko said, scrolling down through the _dozens_ of comments that she’d ended up with. “I deleted the fic before she could comment on every chapter.”

“You deleted the fic!?”

Akko nodded. “Yeah. I mean, it’s shit anyway. We both know that.”

Lotte shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter _at all_ how good it is, _no one_ deserves this!” Lotte was almost shaking, Akko had _never_ seen her this angry before. Or angry at all, come to think of it. “I… part of me wants to go on her Tumblr and yell at her until I get sick, and I know that wouldn’t _help_ but, gosh, I’m just _so_ angry for you, Akko.”

Akko shrugged. “At least it can’t happen again, I guess.”

“That’s not the point!” Lotte said, clenching her hands together. “What kind of person tells a stranger to just ‘fuck off into a hole where you belong?’”

Akko tilted her head into a little half-smile. “Can I just say I’m really happy you’re not telling me ‘I told you so’ about getting into that flamewar? Cause I don’t think I could deal with that right now.”

Lotte wrung her hands. “Well I _did,_ but you didn’t deserve _this_ kind of response!” She deflated, breathing heavily. “Sorry, I should be the one helping you here. Would a hug be OK?”

Akko nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I’d like that a lot, actually.”

Lotte wrapped her arms around Akko, a bit uncertain. She was still shaking a little, and Akko knew she was probably doing the same but it was, well it was nice. She hadn’t really hugged anyone since Okaa-san left her off at security in Tokyo Airport, unless you counted all of Amanda’s shoulder hugs. Which _were_ nice but didn’t have quite the same soothing element of Lotte hugging her like this.

“You should message Amanda and Constanze,” Lotte said, pulling away. “They said the last thing that happened before you left was they were joking about Shiny Chariot, and they’re worried they might have upset you.”

“Oh,” Akko said. “Oh crap it _would_ have looked like that to them, wouldn’t it? One sec I’ll just-” She flicked over to Messenger, glossing over the storm of concerned texts from Amanda and a single “You OK?” from Constanze and typed out a quick response to each of them.

Huh, that was strange. There was still a message icon on her phone’s top bar. But she was _on_ Messenger now and there weren’t any there. She tapped the icon. Twitter? Who messaged people on _Twitter?_ Had she _ever_ received a Twitter DM? She tapped over to her Twitter messages. And felt a cold hand seize her heart.

 **Lady Beatrice @LadyBeatrice:** I would like to… 

How had she found her? Had she just Googled “BelievingHeart625 Akko” until she found her Twitter account? Was she _that_ determined to continue this ridiculous feud that she’d outright cyberstalk her? Akko couldn’t click the message. She _couldn’t._

“What’s wrong?” Lotte asked.

Akko wordlessly turned her phone around, hearing Lotte’s sharp intake of breath like a gunshot. “Do you want me to check it for you?” Lotte asked.

“Huh?” Akko said.

“If it’s her being awful again, I’ll just delete it and block her, and you don’t need to see it, OK?” Lotte offered.

Akko hesitated. Much as she thought she couldn’t click the message, she felt it pull at her soul, like she _needed_ to click it and see the abuse therein.

Akko shook her head, and before she could stop herself, clicked it.

**Lady Beatrice @LadyBeatrice:** I would like to apologise _profusely_ for my friend’s deplorable conduct. While I did not see the messages in question, I am aware of her unsavoury reputation with regards to Internet comments, and the fact you deleted your story is proof enough that whatever she said to you was well beyond the pale.

You may rest assured that while we may have our differences, I would _never_ have encouraged her to comment in such a manner, and would have made her delete the comments had you not done so by removing your work.

If you find it permissible, I would like to offer you the opportunity to have her apologise to you personally. I understand that you may be averse to having her message you directly, so if you’d prefer, I can ask her for her apology and send it to you in this manner.

If I receive no reply, I will assume you do not wish to hear from either of us again. If that is to be the case, I would like to end by reiterating how sorry I am that things escalated this far. _Yesterday, 11:42 PM._

“It’s an apology,” Akko whispered.

“It is?” Lotte said.

“She says she’s sorry her friend was so awful, that she would have made her delete the comments, and that she never meant it to escalate that far,” Akko said. Why did she feel so relieved? Did it even make a difference? Sure, she wasn’t gonna be getting any more nasty messages, but that had already been the case as soon as she deleted her fic.

Was she really so relieved that LadyBeatrice didn’t hate her?

Lotte nodded. “That’s good, right? Means you can put your fic back up again without worrying about her.”

Akko’s blood ran cold in her veins at the mention of putting her fic back up. She shook her head furiously. “Maybe I’ll wait a bit on that.”

Lotte nodded sympathetically. “That makes sense.” She yawned, raising a hand to her mouth politely. “Sorry, kinda late. Are you gonna be OK?”

Akko nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks a lot.”

Lotte sent her a small, soft smile. “No problem, you get some sleep now, alright?”

“No promises, _mom.”_ Akko grinned.

Lotte sighed softly, unable to hide her fond smile. “See you tomorrow.” The door shut behind her with a click.

Now all Akko had to do was reply.

Just.

Reply.

… 

Kuso.

* * *

Diana awoke the next morning, feeling significantly less rested than she had in some time. Even though she’d sent the message before midnight, she’d sat up for nearly an hour afterwards fretting about the potential response. That had _not_ improved when the little _Seen_ bubble popped up next to the message.

So she waited for the response.

And she waited.

By around fifteen minutes later, without so much as a typing bubble showing up, Diana gave up and went to bed. Or tried to, at any rate.

She’d tried, hadn’t she? So why did she still feel so dreadful.

She showered and dressed, hoping the routine would do something to make her feel more awake than she felt. Breakfast with the girls was a subdued affair, Barbara not meeting her glance and Hannah still none the wiser about the nature of the argument they’d had last night.

It was only in the brief, ten-minute window between finishing breakfast and leaving for her morning lecture, that Diana finally checked her phone.

**Shiny Akko @BelievingHeart625:** Hey, sorry I took so long to reply. Thanks for the apology, it means a lot that you went to this much effort to say so. But also I use this Twitter for personal stuff sometimes, so I’d rather we chatted elsewhere if that’s OK. Do you have a Discord? My add’s ShinyAkko#0625 if you wanna chat there instead.

Thanks again. _Today, 2:23 AM._

Diana flinched. Of course she used her Twitter for personal matters, and it had been _incredibly_ rude of her to pry. At the very least, she hadn’t seen anything personal from the brief glance she’d had at her timeline, unless the political posts counted? From what she remembered it was a mixture of LGBT activism, tongue-in-cheek comments about “capitalist innovations,” and a joke about Boris Johnson. And a few in Japanese, but Diana couldn’t read those all that well.

Stop it, Diana! She specifically told you _not_ to use her Twitter to pry into her personal life, and here you are wondering if that anti-Boris retweet meant the university she’d mentioned in her story happened to be in the UK. What would she even do with that information anyway?

And more to the point, what was a Discord?

* * *

In the end, Barbara had agreed to sit down with her over lunch in the Polaris Cafe to set up a Discord account. Apparently she already had one, and it was some kind of instant chat service that looked positively _garish_ until Barbara had shown her how to change it to the dark background.

“OK so if you wanna add her, you just go here.” Barbara tapped a couple of icons, bringing her to the Home screen then to Add Friend. She typed in a name and number combination. “That’s me, may as well do that now while we’re here. Then you can just go grab her info from your DM and paste it in here!”

“No need, I remember it,” Diana said, typing in the address quickly, trying to fight the nervousness rising from deep in her stomach. Why _did_ she feel so nervous? She’d already apologised, hadn’t she? An icon appeared in her friends’ list and her heart jumped. Before settling again, quite thoroughly. “Barbara?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is your profile image a half-naked vampire boy?”

At least she had the decency to look _slightly_ sheepish. Honestly.

A second icon appeared beneath Barbara’s.

That was, well it was definitely her. It was the same profile image as she had on Archive of Our Own, except it was animated, showing a brown-haired and red-eyed girl pulling a witch’s hat down onto her head. Diana didn’t recognise the character, but it made sense that a Shiny Chariot fan would be into other magical girl shows Diana hadn’t seen.

Even if whatever anime her profile picture was from was _clearly_ just ripping off Chariot. The animation style was nearly identical and the hat looked suspiciously similar to the one Chariot always wore. Diana had never seen the point in watching rip-offs or spiritual successors, but she supposed different people dealt with the content drought in their own ways.

She tapped on the icon, bringing up an empty conversation window.

ShinyAkko was already typing.

**ShinyAkko:** Hi there, and welcome to the world of magic!

Diana snorted, a loud undignified noise that caused Barbara to look at her with alarm. She didn’t even care. Goodness, she was even starting to _like_ this girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	7. Favourite Episode?

Akko groggily rolled out of bed, glancing at her phone and wincing at the _11:36 am_ greeting her on the front screen.

And maybe just a little at the lack of further reply from LadyBeatrice.

Well, she _had_ told her not to message her on Twitter again, but she’d kinda hoped to wake up to a Discord add? Maybe? Then again Akko figured all she was gonna do was copy/paste her some apology she’d forced her bitch of a friend to say, right?

So maybe it was a loaded misogynist word and everything, but if you pulled that crap and put bitch _in your screen name,_ then you kinda had it coming.

Would… would that be it? Did Akko want that to be it? Technically all of her interactions with LadyBeatrice prior to last night were exclusively shittalking one another, which _was_ fun, but not exactly the best indicator they should chat more.

But then… she did like Shiny Chariot, didn’t she? Enough to still be reading and writing fics ten years later. Akko loaded up Discord, trying to force herself from checking the Pending Friends tab. There’d be a notification if there was anyone there, there was no point in checking it.

She did anyway.

Akko sighed, tapping back over to her list of servers. All four of them. A Shiny Chariot server where the last on-topic message was in February, another Shiny Chariot server where the last _message_ was in July.

And one where it had just descended into an unmoderated mess of lewd art that Akko kept meaning to leave but hadn’t got round to yet.

The last server was the only one she ever actually used, an empty server she made for herself so she could upload all of her Chariot emojis to use with Nitro.

Honestly, half the reason Akko was looking forward to having LadyBeatrice add her was just to have someone to spam those gifs at.

Actually, did Lotte have a Discord? Maybe she was in a couple NightFall ones or something, she should see about adding her. Messenger was fine and all, but chatting was always more fun when you could emphasise your point with :chariotcute: or :croixrolleyes:

She tabbed over to her emails. _Crap_ there was one from Ursu- Professor Callistis, from like three hours ago. Oops.

_From:_ ucallistis@ln.ac.uk

 _To:_ akagari@ln.ac.uk

 _Subject:_ Toon Boom Help

Good morning, Akko.

I’ve attached a short guide on getting you to grips with Toon Boom. It shouldn’t be too hard to follow, since you’re already well practiced with Clip Studio Paint, but there are a few specifics that are much easier to have taught to you than to learn through trial and error, so I hope this helps!

I’ve also included a quick note on how to activate your free Student Copy on your own computer and get it set up, let me know if you have any trouble with that!

If you need any further assistance with anything in the module, don’t hesitate to email me! Alternatively, my office hours are on the module website if you’d prefer a face-to-face chat.

Regards,

Professor U. Callistis (she/her)

_8.45 AM._

Oh. That was actually really helpful. Akko went to type up a thank you reply, then realised she should probably actually follow all the instructions first.

Although… part of her did feel a little weird about having to get a lecturer to personally email her to help her out just two weeks into the term. Was that normal? It couldn’t be a good sign, at any rate. She still hadn’t got the result back from the practical yesterday but she wasn’t exactly optimistic about her grade.

At least it was only worth about 2% of her overall Computer Animation grade. She’d had a glance yesterday before that chat with Sucy, and it turned out the in-class practicals were only worth 10% of the overall grade, with five throughout the term. So it wasn’t the end of the world if she screwed up one, right? Just had to nail the other four.

And then the theory homeworks at the end of weeks five and ten.

And then the coursework piece to do over the winter break.

And the three hour practical exam at the end of the year.

Easy.

Akko rolled back into bed.

No.

No she _could_ do this! She was a good enough animator to get to Luna Nova, and she was gonna be a good enough animator to graduate Luna Nova! With flying colours!

Akko leapt out of bed, flinging herself into her chair and booting up her laptop. After a couple minutes’ wait for it to warm up, she opened up Ursula’s email and skimmed through the instructions. OK, easy enough, just go to the Toon Boom website, enter in the student code and start the download.

Huh, Toon Boom Harmony was only 1 GB. Akko kinda assumed it’d be huge or something. She’d been worried about having to delete or cloud store some of her art to make space, but that wasn’t too bad! Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

“OK, download, check.” She tabbed back to the email. “Enter student verification code… check.” She clicked through a bunch of the welcome and setup steps, setting the defaults to her usual preferences with CSP. Easy enough.

“Alright, so next step is uh…”

_Test it out! Download this set of frames, or use your own if you wish, then put them together in Toon Boom. Play it back to make sure everything’s in order, then you can start experimenting with some of the commands._

“Heh, dumb question,” Akko said, immediately opening up her most recent project, a short clip of Chariot snapping her fingers and an explosion covering the screen. After a few minutes of wrangling, she’d got all of the frames exported. Now just drop them into Toon Boom like so, aaand-

They imported out of order.

Akko sighed. OK, just rearrange them, get all her ducks in a line, aaand-

Play.

The video player jumped to full screen, the first frame loaded. And sat there, frozen. A loud whirring sound started to come from Akko’s laptop.

“No, no, no!” Akko started clicking around randomly, mashing the Escape key and hoping it would do _something._

It did.

Her laptop blue screened.

“God. _Dammit!”_ Akko pounded her fist on her laptop. Which probably wasn’t gonna help much, but _seriously?_ She’d spent _months_ saving for this thing, and it couldn’t even run the damn program she needed to use for her course!?

Well, she didn’t _know_ that yet, right? Maybe it was just a one-time thing, and she _had_ gone a while without a restart. Maybe once it finished installing all these updates, she’d be fine, right?

Akko pulled out her phone to pass the rebooting time. Actually did Toon Boom say anywhere how good your computer needed to be to run it? She loaded up the Toon Boom site and tapped around until she found the system requirements.

Minimum Processor: Intel i5 or equivalent. Recommended Processor: Intel i7, Intel Xeon, or equivalent.

Minimum RAM: 8 GB. Recommended: 32 GB or more.

Akko looked down at the faded sticker on her laptop with its specs on it. Everything had scratched off except the letters “i3.” Somehow, she doubted she had 32 GB of RAM either.

Her laptop finished booting up, her screensaver of the first Chariot episode smiling widely back at her. She could do this, right? If at first you don’t succeed, just try again, right? She was _good_ at trying again, it was how she’d got good at art in the first place!

Akko booted up Toon Boom. OK, maybe she’d have to use a few compression tricks to make life easier. Make sure the playback render was on a lower quality. Render everything as soon as she was happy with it, then stitch together the resulting clips at the end so her laptop never had to render anything longer than a couple of seconds. That should do it, right?

After a few painstaking minutes of seeing how much she could compress her frames without completely ruining the quality, Akko imported them back into Toon Boom. Now just change the playback render to the smaller window and the quality as low as it would go, aaand-

Play.

Her clip played back, choppy and jumpy but at least her laptop wasn’t-

The playback froze.

“Don’t you dare!” Akko screamed.

The next frame ticked over.

“Oh thank _God-”_

Her laptop blue screened again.

“Ku- _Fuck!”_ Akko screamed. For an irrational moment she felt like putting her fist straight through the screen, or hurling her laptop out the window, or hurling _herself-_

Akko stood up abruptly, moving herself away from her laptop before she could do anything stupid. OK. OK so your laptop can’t run Toon Boom, now what, Akko?

Now what.

As the blue screen faded away and her laptop began to reboot again, the panic started to set in for real. Her laptop couldn’t run Toon Boom. The program she was going to need for this entire Computer Animation course, as well as probably all the courses that built off it, which were the whole reason Akko had come to Luna Nova in the first place, and Akko’s laptop couldn’t run it.

Was there any way for her to upgrade? What would she need, more RAM, a better processor, probably a better graphics card. Would those be more or less expensive than just buying a new laptop?

And wasn’t that all getting a _little_ ahead of yourself? So said the voice in the back of Akko’s mind that had seen her account balance when she’d gone to the cash machine on Monday and knew that “£37.50” was _not_ laptop-buying money.

So. Now what.

She _could_ ask her parents. They didn’t have a _huge_ amount of money to spare but they certainly weren’t _broke_ and if she told them it was essential for her course, they’d probably help her pay for an upgrade. Although they _were_ already helping pay for some of her accommodation fees that she hadn’t been able to cover herself.

So she _could_ ask them for help.

She wasn’t _going_ to, but she _could._

Akko continued pacing around her room. OK, time to think. Make plans. If her laptop couldn’t run Toon Boom, how long could she save up until she could get one that could?

Wait, could she even save up? Being a foreign student meant no maintenance loan, so she’d had to take out an International Student Loan to cover her tuition fees and some of her accommodation. What little money she got from her bursary went straight to covering the rest of her rent, with a bit left over for food.

OK, how much could she cut into that food budget? No more chicken wings with Amanda for the foreseeable future, at any rate. She had enough rice to last her for months, first thing she’d done after arriving in England was go to the nearest Asian supermarket and buy a five kilo sack. So all she needed to do was figure out what was the minimum amount of meat she could throw into a wok each day before she got a protein deficiency.

Could you get tablets to substitute that? Were they more or less expensive than the cheapest packs of chicken from Tesco? Akko would have to check.

Akko’s laptop had finished rebooting, and after a quick check to make sure nothing was damaged by the blue screen, it was time to Google some nutrition facts!

Her phone dinged again.

_From:_ ucallistis@ln.ac.uk

 _To:_ akagari@ln.ac.uk

 _Subject:_ Re: Toon Boom Help

Good afternoon, Akko.

I see you’ve downloaded the files I sent, and activated your Toon Boom student license. How are you finding it? Let me know how you got to grips with the practice examples I gave you!

Regards,

Professor U. Callistis (she/her)

_12.26 PM._

Akko stared at the email.

How was she meant to tell her that she wasn’t finding it _anything at all_ because it kept _breaking her laptop?_

Akko stared at the email some more. She had to reply. Ursula knew she’d seen the last email, and she’d asked a direct question. Akko needed to reply. Should she lie? Wait, _why_ would she do that? It’d just ensure she’d fail the course when she was expected to work with Toon Boom for the rest of the term. Maybe she could just do everything in Clip Paint Studio and hope it worked out. It’d been good enough to get her into the course, right?

God _dammit_ Akko just type to the woman and say your worthless piece of shit laptop can’t run the damn program! How hard could it be? _Why won’t your fingers bloody type?_

A Discord notification popped up at the top of her screen.

Friend request from LadyBeatrice#3004.

Akko tapped on the message, staring at it in disbelief. LadyBeatrice had _actually_ agreed to add her? Well, Akko had hoped she would, but when she’d woken up to see no add, she’d just assumed that ship had sailed.

Much like Charoix didn’t, heyooo.

…If she clicked accept, she’d be able to say that joke to someone who actually got it.

Screw it, what did she have to lose?

…Aside from the couple hours of depression crash she’d had after LadyBeatrice’s first message?

Her thumb hovered over the accept button.

Discord had a block function, right? It wasn’t like AO3. If this was all some kinda ruse to just send her more shitty messages, Akko could just block her. If she timed it right, she could even slide in one of her great comebacks right before she hit block. _That’d_ be fun.

So, either Akko would have a nice, cordial chat, and hopefully some kind of apology, _or_ she got to slide in a couple more zingers at her fanfic rival.

Win-win, really.

Akko tapped accept.

OK, opening line. Gotta start strong. Something that’ll really- _wait, got it!_

**ShinyAkko** : Hi there, and welcome to the world of magic!

Akko giggled to herself as she waited for the response. Always steal from the best!

**LadyBeatrice** : Good afternoon, ShinyAkko. Or do you prefer simply “Shiny,” or “Akko,” or perhaps “Believing Heart?” I’m unsure which of your screen names is best to use.

Wow, formal much? Akko was halfway to typing that out, before stopping herself. Maybe keep the antagonism to a minimum, juuust until she saw what the game was here.

**ShinyAkko** : Just Akko’s fine, thanks.

 **ShinyAkko** : What did you wanna chat about?

 **LadyBeatrice** : As I explained in our communication on Twitter, I would like to have my friend apologise to you for her needlessly antagonistic comment on your story. She is currently with me, so if you were amenable, I would like to add her to this conversation so she can make her apology to you directly. However, if you would prefer, I can have her dictate her apology to me. The choice is yours.

Akko paused. Honestly, just the thought of interacting with Edgar’s Bitch was causing her stomach to start churning with anxiety. LadyBeatrice _had_ offered her an out, and it didn’t seem like she’d be too mad if Akko took it. Would that be showing weakness? Would she care? Would _Akko_ care? She’d had a pretty shitty week, showing some weakness wouldn’t be the end of the world.

And really, all it was gonna be was some pointless non-apology she’d been pressured into by LadyBeatrice. Why would Akko bother risking the possible downsides when the upside was like, barely worth anything in the first place?

Then again.

Had anything either of them had said actually been wrong?

**ShinyAkko** : Yeah sure, add away.

-> **LadyBeatrice** added **Edgar’s Bitch** to the conversation!

 **LadyBeatrice** : I believe you had something to say?

 **Edgar’s Bitch** : Oh yeah, uh.

 **Edgar’s Bitch** : Sorry. My comment on your fic was kinda over the line, and I shouldn’t have posted it. My bad.

Akko stared at the apology.

She stared at it some more.

She put her phone down, and flicked over to Discord on her laptop. She didn’t trust her shaking hands on her phone keyboard.

**ShinyAkko** : You’re fucking kidding, right?

 **ShinyAkko** : “Kinda over the line?” You told me I was worthless, and to fuck off into a hole and die.

 **ShinyAkko** : Also “comment” bitch what the fuck are your math skills. You literally went through every goddamn chapter one by one til I pulled the fic.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Barbara, explain.

 **ShinyAkko** : I’m guessing she didn’t even tell you what she actually said lmaoooo.

 **Edgar’s Bitch** : What is your deal? I apologised jesus christ lol.

 **ShinyAkko** : Yo “Barbara” I still have the email with all your comments I can screenshot it right fuckin now, or do you wanna jump on that grenade first?

 **ShinyAkko** : Tick tock tick tock :croixsmug:

 **LadyBeatrice** : I don’t think that will be necessary. Suffice it to say I am well aware that she may have underexaggerated the nature of the abuse she directed towards you.

 **ShinyAkko** : Just a bit lol.

 **Edgar’s Bitch** : Look do you want a damn apology or not.

 **ShinyAkko** : Not really tbh.

 **ShinyAkko** : Like, it’s clearly just being forced out by your friend anyway.

 **ShinyAkko** : Let’s be real if Beatrice hadn’t called you out you would never have given a shit, so why should I pretend your apology means anything lmao.

 **ShinyAkko** : I will say, gj for trying at least @LadyBeatrice.

 **ShinyAkko** : Eat shit @Edgar’s Bitch :chariotbirdflip:

-> **ShinyAkko** has left the conversation.

Akko slumped back into her chair. Holy shit the _adrenaline_ burning in her chest right now. That felt _so_ good. Her hands, no, her entire _body_ was shaking. She could see why people got into those dumb fandom arguments now, this kinda feeling must be _addictive._

Ah crap, she had another message.

**LadyBeatrice** : My apologies for how poorly that conversation unfolded. While I assure you I had the best intentions in attempting to bring a reconciliation, I understand that you are likely still very hurt by what she said to you.

 **ShinyAkko** : Sukoshi.

 **ShinyAkko** : Just to be clear, I’m not mad at you or anything over this. I kinda thought you’d sent her after me or something, but it wasn’t, so we’re good. Ish.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Of course I didn’t. Just because I don’t see eye to eye with you on fanfiction quality doesn’t mean I’m going to encourage my friends to insult you.

 **LadyBeatrice** : And certainly not to that extent.

 **ShinyAkko** : That’s fair.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Although on that topic, I would have appreciated it if you hadn’t used such aggressive language towards her. I understand that you are upset, and with very good reason, but the opportunity to take the high road was available and the fact you elected not to do so makes any future attempt at reconciliation significantly more difficult.

 **ShinyAkko** : Imma be real idc.

 **ShinyAkko** : I don’t wanna be friends with her lol. I don’t wanna talk to her.

 **ShinyAkko** : Why would I? She made me feel like crap for no reason then goes “my bad” lol. Why would I wanna be friends with someone like that lol.

 **LadyBeatrice** : I suppose I can understand that. I’m sorry this conversation didn’t pan out the way I had hoped. It appears I have only succeeded in making the matter worse.

Akko sighed, slumping back in her chair and feeling her righteous fury starting to drain. Beatrice _hadn’t_ really done anything wrong. It wasn’t her fault her friend was so awful, much and all as Akko couldn’t understand being friends with someone like that in the first place. Maybe she was better in real life or something.

**ShinyAkko** : Look, I’m not gonna apologise for snapping at your friend, cause what she did to me was messed up and her apology was garbage.

 **ShinyAkko** : But I get that you’re probably upset cause you were trying to do the right thing and it didn’t work out. So I’m sorry for that. You didn’t do anything wrong here, OK?

 **LadyBeatrice** : Thank you. 

**LadyBeatrice** : And I’m sorry you were forced into deleting your fic.

 **ShinyAkko** : I thought you hated it lol.

 **LadyBeatrice** : I did and still do.

 **ShinyAkko** : Oh.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Make no mistake, your story was dreadful. But a dreadful story might one day become a better story, if the author is willing to put in the effort to improve her craft.

 **LadyBeatrice** : A story that doesn’t exist can never become anything.

Did she seriously have to try and be so damn poetic in everyday conversation as well? It was bad enough when she was cramming fifty metaphors into a paragraph in her fics.

**ShinyAkko** : Maybe I’ll put it up again sometime.

 **ShinyAkko** : Idk, kinda focusing on uni stuff rn anyway.

 **LadyBeatrice** : A noble aim, one should never neglect their studies. I wish you the best of luck on your course.

…That was that, then, Akko figured.

Why did that feel so hollow?

Did she wanna chat more? What would she say? “I think your fic sucks too”? Not exactly the best conversation starter.

Why was Akko sat staring at her screen like this? It wasn’t like she and Beatrice had anything in common _other_ than Shiny Chariot which, admittedly, had been more than enough for Akko to try and form friendships before, but _usually_ with people who hadn’t insulted her writing for a whole page.

Why would she even want to be friends with someone like that? Was she _that_ desperate to talk about Shiny Chariot? Or was it something else?

…She _had_ been enjoying their back and forth, hadn’t she? Sure, the first couple of messages were kinda nasty on both sides, but then after that it’d been mostly fun snark at each other. Beatrice had even cracked a joke that had made Akko laugh! Then Akko had told the same joke but even better back to her!

Better to try then fail, than to never find out, right?

**ShinyAkko** : Random question, favourite ep?

The exact moment Akko hit send, a message arrived in from LadyBeatrice.

**LadyBeatrice** : If you don’t mind my asking, that gif of Chariot flipping somebody off. Which episode is it from? I’ve been trying to find it ever since you sent it and it irks me more than I care to admit that I can’t seem to recall it.

A sudden pause, as if they were both equally as taken aback by receiving a message as the other was.

**LadyBeatrice** : Oh, since you asked, the season four finale.

A grin began to spread slowly across Akko’s face. Oh this was _too_ funny.

**ShinyAkko** : You seriously can’t remember? Wooow some fan you are :chariotsnicker:

 **ShinyAkko** : Guess I was right, you _haven’t_ watched the series in ages have you?

 **LadyBeatrice** : Much like yourself, I have been focusing on my studies as of late. I haven’t even been able to find the time to write my next piece, it’s quite aggravating.

 **ShinyAkko** : Huh, I rewatched half of season two just the other day lol.

 **ShinyAkko** : Guess I can’t help being a _real_ fan.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Do you ever tire of being so insufferable?

 **ShinyAkko** : LMAO

 **ShinyAkko** : Nah I’m messing with you. I made the gif. :chariotbirdflip:

 **LadyBeatrice** : What.

 **LadyBeatrice** : I’m sorry, you _made_ that gif?

 **ShinyAkko** : Yeah, it was actually on my portfolio for my uni application lol.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Oh, you study animation?

 **ShinyAkko** : Yeah! Love it! :chariotcute:

 **LadyBeatrice** : I can see why you’d choose the field. I admit that I fully believed that clip to be from the show itself. That you were able to recreate such an iconic animation style to such a degree of accuracy that even a dedicated fan like myself was fooled is truly impressive.

Akko giggled to herself, standing up and grabbing her phone as she paced around her room to continue the conversation.

**ShinyAkko** : Dedicated fan who couldn’t even remember what episode the gif wasn’t from smh :croixsmug:

 **ShinyAkko** : Thanks though!

 **LadyBeatrice** : Is your profile picture your own work as well?

 **ShinyAkko** : Oh yeah! That’s my OC from the fic!

 **LadyBeatrice** : Ah, I assumed she was from a different magical girl show that derivative of Chariot.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Which I suppose was right, in a way.

 **ShinyAkko** : Oof, I felt that one :chariotded:

 **ShinyAkko** : Oh, forgot to say, my favourite ep’s s2e8!

 **LadyBeatrice** : The mind travel episode? Excellent choice.

 **ShinyAkko** : Glad to see you have _some_ good taste.

 **LadyBeatrice** : I don’t suppose you ever read the story from years ago which adapted the premise to be Chariot travelling into Croix’s mind?

 **ShinyAkko** : OF COURSE I DID

 **ShinyAkko** : ICONIC FIC

 **ShinyAkko** : All time classic straight up :chariotsmile:

 **LadyBeatrice** : I suppose your taste in fan fiction isn’t as awful as your writing, at least.

 **ShinyAkko** : Oh shush. Seriously the way they wrote Chariot/Croix made me believe love was real.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Hahaha! I thought based on your writing you didn’t like the pairing much.

 **ShinyAkko** : It’s fine, but I’m mainly here for Chariot tbh. Romance is fun and all but my favourites tend to be the fics that have that same kinda adventure as the show :chariotbadass:

 **LadyBeatrice** : I suppose that makes sense. For myself, part of what kept me engaged with fanfiction for so long was that it is one of the few forms of media in which well-written wlw relationships even exist.

 **ShinyAkko** : Oof tell me about it. There’s some pretty decent yuri manga out there nowadays but you really gotta sift through the crap to find it, and there’s basically nothing in anime :chariotsob:

 **ShinyAkko** : And like, what yuri _does_ exist is all romance! Gimme some magical girl or action adventure stuff where the main characters are gay girls, I’m begging you! :chariotrage:

 **LadyBeatrice** : If the content we seek does not exist, then we must make it ourselves. I believe that to be the true ethos of what makes fanfiction so worthwhile.

 **ShinyAkko** : Wow Beatrice really out here telling sisters to do it for themselves, respect.

 **LadyBeatrice** : I hate that I am able to understand that sentence.

 **ShinyAkko** : :chariotdabgif:

 **LadyBeatrice** : You are awful.

Akko leaned slanted against her desk. This was _fun!_ What the hell!? Beatrice even loved the mind travel fic! And she thought Akko was a great animator! And that last bit had her nearly walking on _clouds_ after the level of catastrophe she’d gone through this morning.

Oh wait crap, she still hadn’t replied to Ursula.

**ShinyAkko** : Yo gimme 5, gotta email my lecturer about some stuff.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Oh, that’s quite alright, I have a lecture myself in a few minutes and was almost finished with lunch.

 **LadyBeatrice** : We can resume our conversation later, assuming we both have the time.

 **ShinyAkko** : Yeah! I’d love to

Akko quickly backspaced.

 **ShinyAkko** : Yeah! Sounds great! Good luck with your lecture.

 **LadyBeatrice** : I won’t need it, but thank you.

Akko rolled her eyes at her phone. Smug as ever, huh? Ah well, now to figure out how to reply to Ursula.

Honesty was the best policy, right?

_From:_ akagari@ln.ac.uk

 _To:_ ucallistis@ln.ac.uk 

_Subject:_ Re: Toon Boom Help

Hey, Professor Callistis

I need help.


	8. A Smashing Evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains some bits of the gang drinking a bit. It's not underage, since legal drinking age in the UK is 18, but figured I'd tag anyway since it makes some folks uncomfy.

Professor Ursu- Callistis’ keys clicked open the door into the computer lab, holding the door behind her for Akko to dash in.

“Thanks so much, Professor!” Akko clapped her hands together, bowing her head to Professor Callistis. “Seriously, when my laptop blue screened twice I was worried I was gonna fail the whole year or have to do the whole thing on Clip Studio Paint and just pretend I was doing it all in Toon Boom which  _ probably _ could’ve worked but then-”

“It’s alright, Akko,” Ursula smiled, waving her over to one of the computers. “I’ve sent you my schedule, so any time you need to use the labs and I’m free, please just ask and we can work together here. I know it’s not ideal, but it should suffice until such time as you’re able to afford a computer with better specs, yes?”

Akko nodded furiously. “Thank you thank you thank you! And you’re sure it’s not gonna be too much hassle for you?”

Ursula shook her head with a light smile. “I’ll be able to do any work I need to be doing just fine.” She gestured at the lecturer’s computer set up at the front of the lab. “Nothing I need my office computer for that I can’t do on that.”

“Even stuff you have saved?” Akko asked curiously, typing in her login to the nearest computer to Ursula’s.

“It’s all clouded,” Ursula explained. “Well, mostly.” She looked oddly distant for a moment. “But regardless, the majority of my work can be done from here.” She gave Akko a small, almost impish smile. “Although to tell the truth, I might just be watching Sailor Moon Crystal. Only if I’m caught up on work, of course.” She winked.

Akko giggled back, raising a finger to her lips to swear to secrecy.

Ursula’s expression turned strangely hesitant. “Although… actually, for this session, would you mind if I watched while you worked?”

“Sure! I’ve never really had anyone watching over my shoulder before, hope you like what you see!” Akko grinned.

Ursula nodded, settling herself down in the chair next to Akko. “There were a few things I noticed about your in-class project that I wanted to give a bit more feedback on.”

Akko tensed. “Oh, yeah I know the ending was a mess, kinda ran out of time. I can try and practice time-management if you think that’ll help.”

Ursula nodded, her expression unreadable. “Yes, I think that would help. But there were also… some other things.”

Akko felt a sense of unease growing in her gut. What other things? What was wrong with the first half? It was like, some of Akko’s best ever work in the field of making bouncy balls look cool. What needed fixing?

“I think we’ll use that project as part of our introduction to Toon Boom today, shall we, Akko?” Ursula said. “Allow us to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.”

Akko nodded, trying to stem the anxiety as she tried to figure out what Ursula needed to correct her on. Were there some secret mistakes that only expert animators could spot? How screwed  _ was _ she?

Akko navigated around the file storage haphazardly until she found her project from a couple of days ago.

“Alright, just export the individual frames,” Ursula said, gesturing over to the drop-down menu Akko was already heading towards because she knew how to do  _ that much _ at least, OK?

It was almost depressing how much more quickly the school computer rendered all the frames than Akko’s own laptop. And there were like, thirty computers that good in this one lab. Some quick mental arithmetic was throwing up some pretty dizzying numbers. Guess that was where all her tuition fees were going, huh.

Hey this was a  _ lovely _ train of thought that meant she didn’t have to think about the fact the crappy frames she drew at the end of her class were now sitting on the screen and being rendered.

_ God _ they were dreadful. Just  _ looking _ at them made Akko want to go back to bed, especially with Professor Callistis sitting right next to her, looking at the same awful frames she was. Fine. Great. Yeah this was all just  _ so _ great she was  _ so _ glad she’d come to this lesson.

Ursula must have noticed the look on Akko’s face because she tried to smile. “Akko, I don’t care about these frames at all. You ran out of time, and that’s a mistake you won’t make again in future, right?”

“I hope so,” Akko sighed. “Sorry they just look  _ really _ crap and I swear I’m not  _ that _ bad.”

“I know you’re not,” Ursula reassured her. “If every animator was judged by their worst, most rushed frames, there’d be no good ones left, trust me.”

Akko chuckled along with her. “Except the animators for Shiny Chariot, of course.” Akko could feel her eyes lighting up. “Even the background characters are super well detailed! It’s kinda crazy when you compare it to how lazy other shows are with that kinda thing.”

“Akko… some would argue that, well, Shiny Chariot set an unrealistic standard by refusing to cut costs in areas that made very little difference to the overall quality of the animation,” Ursula said.

“How’s that a bad thing?” Akko tilted her head in confusion.

Ursula paused, searching for the words. “A lot of those ‘lazy’ background elements are there to try and reduce the heavy workload on animation teams. Many animators on other anime reported that, after Shiny Chariot’s success, they were being expected to live up to that level of detail and fidelity in every frame, while still having to meet their weekly release cycles.”

“Oh. So it’s like they were being expected to go from an eight to a ten in terms of the effort it took, while the studio still only gave them the amount of time they had when they were making stuff that was an eight?” Akko’s ponytail wiggled as she looked up.

“Pretty much that, yes.” Ursula nodded. “And often still only being paid for a five,” she said with a sigh.

Akko winced sympathetically.

“That was actually part of what I wanted to talk about today.” Ursula gestured to the fully exported set of frames. “The level of detail you put into your first few frames is very admirable, but when working with time constraints, that kind of approach simply isn’t possible.”

“I don’t wanna cut corners though!” Akko protested. “I want everything I animate to look great!”

“The problem, Akko, is that if you’re working professionally, you will often be faced with even stricter time limitations than those you did in our class,” Ursula said. “If you don’t learn now which corners can be cut with the least amount of detriment to the overall piece, you may face much more difficulty down the line. That’s part of why the class assignments and end of year practical are timed the way they are.”

Akko wilted in her seat. She  _ had _ to learn to cut corners? A hollow feeling sat in her chest. She’d come to Luna Nova to learn how to animate  _ better, _ not  _ worse. _

“Anyway, next thing I want to talk about.” Ursula gestured at the good frames that Akko was midway through setting up in Toon Boom. “Would you mind going through a few of those in between frames for me, Akko?”

“Alright!” Akko perked up, selecting the good first half of the animation and running it. Hell yeah, still as good as she remembered, just check that dynamic action!

“Can you take me through frames three to five, Akko?” Ursula asked.

Akko nodded, clicking through the frames where the ball started to smear more drastically. She was pretty proud of the way she’d managed to get the ball to gradually blur, so it looked stylised but natural at the same time.

“OK, if you look here.” Ursula took the mouse from Akko and clicked back and forth between frame four and five, pointing as she did so. “The amount of space filled by the ball changes quite a bit.”

“Um, isn’t that just cause it smears?” Akko paled.

Ursula shook her head. “No, you can still see the outline of where the ball  _ is _ when you smear, which is excellent technique by the way, well done on that,” she interjected, and Akko glowed under the praise. “But if you look at those outlines, you can see that the actual space occupied by the ball is significantly smaller in this frame compared to the previous one. I understand the temptation to do so in order to make it seem like it’s moving faster, but if you do that, you need to stretch it a little more in order to fill the same total area.”

“Oh. Is that important? It still looks fine…” Akko trailed off.

Ursula nodded. “With something as small as a ball, it might just look a little odd. However, with something as large or complicated as a person, losing that sense of space can make a watcher feel like what they’re seeing is completely unrealistic,” she explained.

“I thought the whole point of animation is you get to break the rules of reality to make stuff more dynamic and cool!” Akko turned to Ursula, quoting Hokuto Shichisei directly.

Ursula adjusted her glasses a little higher. “That is… certainly true. However, overall volume is something you only want to distort when you have a specific, deliberate reason to do so, rather than as a matter of course.”

“Huh?”

“You have to know the rules to know when best to break them, Akko,” Ursula clarified. “I understand what you were attempting to achieve with your approach here, but for this class, I would advise you to stick to first principles such as this where possible.”

Akko clenched her hands together, struggling to force out the words.

“Do you understand, Akko? Or is there anything more you’d like to discuss before we proceed?” Akko  _ knew _ she was being prodded to reply.

She took a shallow breath in. “I didn’t know I was breaking a rule,” she said quickly. “I’d never really thought about it before.”

Ursula’s eyes widened behind her glasses. “Did your high school animation teacher not tell you? Maintaining volume is considered one of the basic tenets of animation.”

“I never had an animation teacher,” Akko forced out. “I did art all through school, yeah, but they didn’t offer animation, so I had to teach myself.”

“You… taught yourself animation? From scratch? And passed the application process to Luna Nova?” Ursula asked.

“Pretty much? I watched some tutorial videos, and read a few interviews from Hokuto Shichisei or whatever,” Akko explained. “But mostly I just practiced.”

“Could you show me some of your work?” Ursula asked. “I’m sure you must have submitted it as part of your application, but I’m not part of the admissions team, so I haven’t seen it.”

Akko hesitated. If Ursula found flaws in  _ that _ work, she wasn’t sure how she’d recover.

“If you don’t mind, of course!” Ursula raised her hands apologetically. “I’d just like the opportunity to see what your work normally looks like when you’re unconstrained, so I know what you do and don’t need to learn.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense.” Akko nodded, feeling her confidence return. Her animation was  _ good. _ Even  _ LadyBeatrice _ thought she had Shiny Chariot’s style down perfectly. And Ursula had even seen the show, so she’d know what Akko was trying to go for! “OK, check  _ this _ out!”

Akko pulled out her phone, and showed Ursula the Chariot fireball clip she’d been trying to work with yesterday. Ursula watched it a couple of times, her brow furrowing a little. Akko felt her heart drop through her stomach.

“This is…  _ extremely _ impressive, Akko,” she said finally.

“Yay!” Akko leapt out of her chair. Ursula flinched back, looking at her with wide eyes behind her glasses. “Oh, uh, sorry.” Akko sat back down, setting her phone down on the table with the gif still looping. “Got a little carried away there.”

“It’s quite alright,” Ursula laughed gently. “But yes, your ability to recreate the style of Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot is remarkable. Was this clip part of your application?”

“You bet!” Akko said. “Here, I’ve got a couple more!”

Akko flicked through some more clips on her phone, skimming through for the best ones that she’d used for her application.

She avoided the one of her OC with the hat though. There was a difference between letting your teacher know you were obsessed with an anime, and letting your teacher know you’d animated your own  _ self-insert  _ for that anime.

Akko looked back up, and noticed Ursula’s brow had furrowed again, deeper this time. “Akko, are  _ all _ of your own projects in this style?”

“Yeah!” Akko said. “I spent  _ ages _ learning how to recreate Shiny Chariot’s style! I started by redrawing clips from it, then once I’d got that perfect, I started making my own!”

Ursula nodded grimly. “That… would explain it.” She sighed. “Akko, Shiny Chariot’s animation style is the kind that breaks a great many animation rules, often for deliberate effect, of course.”

“That’s what makes it so cool though!” Akko grinned.

“I agree,” Ursula said. “However, learning how to animate by mimicking such a style will have left you with a great deal of bad habits that will unfortunately take a lot of effort to break.”

“But I don’t  _ wanna _ break those habits!” Akko said. “I wanna animate just like Hokuto Shichisei, and you say I’m good at that style, so why should I have to just unlearn all of that?”

“Because being able to recreate one style fluently does not make you a complete animator,” Ursula said sternly.

Akko shrank back as if she’d been slapped.

“I’m sorry, that came out harsher than I intended,” Ursula apologised. “What I mean to say is, Hokuto Shichisei developed her style after years of practice of the fundamentals of animation. She may have broken the rules a lot, but only because she  _ knew _ them very well.”

She reached out and laid a gentle hand on Akko’s shoulder. “There is no shame in mimicry, Akko,” Ursula said softly, “many of the best artists in many fields started that way. But the most important thing is that you develop  _ your _ style and  _ your _ voice with animation. That style may very well end up being similar to Hokuto Shichisei’s style, but first you will need to learn a more rounded skillset, and  _ then _ decide which elements of that you wish to incorporate into your own approach. Does that make sense?”

Akko nodded, trying to process the enormity of what she was being asked. She was going to have to relearn  _ all _ of animation  _ from the ground up. _

And she was already three weeks into the term.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Akko raised her head determinedly. “Alright, where do I start!”

Ursula nodded, smiling at her. “Excellent! Now then, let’s look back at your class project. There were just a few more things I wished to address.”

Akko kept her smile on her face, despite the cold, sinking feeling in her chest.

* * *

“Welcome to Castle O’Neill!” Amanda bowed, beckoning the three of them into her room. “Fun fact, there’s actually an old abandoned Castle O’Neill in Ireland, and I visited there one time with my folks because they wanted to show us our  _ heritage _ and, believe me, it was even more boring than I’m making it sound.”

“Fascinating,” Sucy commented, immediately seating herself on Amanda’s desk chair and tucking her knees under herself in a ridiculously contorted position that couldn’t possibly be comfortable.

“Is there space?” Lotte asked hesitantly from the door.

“Probably not.” Amanda hopped onto her desk, right beneath a poster nearly as big as she was, with a skeleton that loudly proclaimed  _ Be Gay, Do Crime. _ “But make yourself at home anyway. Mi casa es tu casa, and all that.”

Akko had already made herself comfortable leaning against the wall, fighting between the urge to check her phone, which had vibrated the moment she walked in, and the urge to not be rude when her friend had invited her to hang out. Lotte, meanwhile, squeezed onto Amanda’s bed next to Constanze and Jasminka, who immediately offered her a crisp.

“Alright let’s call this party to order.” Amanda banged her fist on the desk like a gavel. “First order of business, Jasna if you would be so kind?”

Jasminka reached down the side of Amanda’s bed and pulled out a plastic bag full of clinking bottles.

“I thought you asked us to bring our own?” Akko held up a single bottle of sake, which had been enough of a stretch for her budget plan that she’d had to schedule half portions of chicken for the next four days just to catch up.

“Never too much booze.” Amanda reached over and cracked open a can. “Had these in the fridge before y’all arrived so they  _ should _ be alright.” She took a swig. “Jesus, never mind, Fosters really  _ is _ piss.” She took another swig.

Akko took a plastic cup from Constanze and poured in a small amount of sake, feeling every one of her ancestors judging her as she took a small sip.

So maybe six people crammed into a student bedroom wasn’t  _ exactly _ the most traditional sake ceremony, but it still tasted just fine at least.

“Is there a mixer?” Lotte asked, holding up her cup with a not insignificant slug of vodka in the bottom.

“Yeah, Diet Coke’s in the— _ whoa holy shit!” _ Amanda shouted, as Sucy grabbed the vodka and downed a couple shots worth straight from the battle.

All eyes locked on Sucy. Several jaws dropped. Sucy shrugged, and took another swig. “It’s OK, store it in the freezer next time.” She handed the bottle back to Jasminka.

“Is this like a normal thing for her?” Amanda asked Akko, awestruck.

“Probably? Last time we spoke she told me she tried to poison me with some mushrooms, so this feels pretty in-character,” Akko said, catching herself too late as she noticed Lotte’s strange look at her phrasing.

“She tried to poison you!?” Amanda asked.

“I succeeded.” Sucy herself responded.

“And you invited her to a group hangout with the rest of us?” Amanda asked in a strained voice.

“Sure, I don’t think she’ll poison anyone else?” Akko shrugged.

Sucy grinned, looking almost feral.

Akko decided that this was, in fact, the  _ perfect _ opportunity to check her phone and  _ not _ be in this conversation.

Please don’t be a uni email please don’t be a—

**LadyBeatrice** **sent an attachment!**

Yesss!

Uh, rather, uh, that’s cool. No work she forgot, right?

Akko double tapped.

**LadyBeatrice** : I thought you’d like to know that I have my next draft well underway.

Akko let out an uncontrolled snort of laughter at the attached image. She  _ couldn’t _ be for real. Who the hell wrote  _ fanfic _ with a  _ fountain pen!? _

**ShinyAkko** : LMAOOOO

**ShinyAkko** : Good one lol, nearly had me for a sec there :chariotgiggle:

**LadyBeatrice** : Hm? I fail to see the joke?

**ShinyAkko** : What.

**ShinyAkko** : Wait are you telling me you seriously write your fics out with a fountain pen!?!?!? :croixshocked:

**LadyBeatrice** : Of course. Being in the correct mindset is very important for my craft, and I find the comfort of my settings to be a critical part of that process. Using my preferred fountain pen is an essential part of tapping into what it is that I truly wish to express with my writing.

**ShinyAkko** : Omfg

**ShinyAkko** : Ur like a parody of yourself I can’t believe you’re real

_ LadyBeatrice is typing… _

“Yo, Earth to Akko!” Amanda snapped her fingers in front of Akko’s face. “Conz was askin’ if you wanted to play some Smash?”

“Oh, uh, sure!” Akko grinned, still giddy from seeing LadyBeatrice’s draft. A  _ fountain pen, seriously. _

Akko squeezed onto Amanda’s bed, taking the proffered Switch controller and apologising to Constanze who looked pretty squished against the headboard there.

“Alright, how chaotic we making this bitch?” Amanda opened up the rules.

Constanze held up her board.  _ “Doesn’t matter.” _

“Confident, huh?” Sucy asked with a glint to her eye.

Oh shit Akko knew that look. Things were about to get  _ competitive _ over Super Smash Bros. This  _ always _ ended well.

Amanda finished setting the rules to as crazy as she could physically make them, and leaned over to whisper in Akko’s ear, “Tenner on Conz.”

Did Akko even have a tenner spare? “Do I look that dumb?” Akko asked.  _ “Shut up Sucy!” _ she yelled before Sucy even got a chance to open her mouth.

“I was just going to tell you to take the free money.” Sucy shrugged. “I was raised under Winner-Stays-On rules with fifteen foster siblings.” She grinned viciously. “Good luck.”

Constanze, who’d been looking fairly nonchalant until that moment, leaned forwards slightly.

Oh it was  _ on. _

Character selection was a messy affair, with Amanda clicking around random characters to make the announcer sing a song, before finally settling on Zero Suit Samus. The beach costume, obviously.

Akko’s cursor found Pikachu pretty quickly, flicking over to the party hat outfit. She’d probably cycle through a few characters, usually did, but had to start out by repping her boy.

Lotte picked Ice Climbers, listening intently as Jasminka explained how to play the game. Jasminka herself locked in King Dedede, while Sucy and Constanze took Yoshi and R.O.B respectively.

The map spawned. Hyrule Temple.

_ “Everyone into Hyrule Fight Club!” _ Amanda yelled immediately, diving towards the underground spot as soon as she could. Jasminka followed immediately after, and within seconds Amanda was whooping and laughing as Dedede’s hammer sent her Samus bouncing across the roof and walls of the enclosed space.

Akko went to join them, but was distracted by what was happening on the other end of the map. Sucy and Constanze hadn’t even waited to get to the underground to fight each other, they were just  _ going at it _ from the first second.

And Constanze was winning.

_ Hard. _

A string of muffled Filipino curses accompanied almost every move Constanze’s R.O.B was making. She always seemed to be  _ just _ out of range for every attack Sucy made, countering all of Yoshi’s kicks into short combos of her own, constantly maintaining the upper hand. Every time Sucy  _ did _ land a hit, Constanze always managed to roll away from further punishment and reset to a neutral position immediately.

This wasn’t a fight, it was  _ art. _

An explosion rang out as Akko fell off the side and died.

“Oh  _ shit,” _ she growled, remembering that she was supposed to be fighting the others.

“Get your head in the game, Kagari!” Amanda ordered, divekicking Jasminka’s Dedede, who bounced off the ceiling five or six times.

“Don’t fight in the spot where I can’t use Thunder then! Unfair!” Akko complained back. “Besides, have you  _ seen _ what’s going on over there!?” Akko asked, making her way back down to Hyrule Fight Club as Constanze scored her first kill with an explosive spin.

Lotte, meanwhile, was stuck on the small rock at the bottom. “How do I jump?” she asked quietly.

“X!” Jasminka called back, charging up a hammer slam that got interrupted by Akko spamming Thunder Jolt from the ledge above.

“Get down here, coward!” Amanda yelled, leaping after Akko and getting a Thunder Jolt for her trouble.

“Where’s the X button?” Lotte looked at her controller, finally located X, pressed it, and promptly jumped off the edge to her death.

“Oof,” Amanda commiserated.

“I don’t suppose I could be allowed to  _ land _ any time soon?” Sucy growled, as R.O.B’s spinning arms juggled Yoshi in the sky well above Hyrule Fight Club. Sucy tensed, entering a command as Yoshi slammed butt-first towards the platform. R.O.B neatly sidestepped, grabbed Yoshi again as soon he landed, drilled him into the ground, and returned to smacking him into the air.

“I hate you.” Sucy spat with venom.

Constanze taunted.

Akko’s Pikachu, caught between Samus and Dedede, pressed Thunder by mistake. The Thunder cloud appeared in the space well above her, striking down on the bob-omb that just happened to have spawned next to R.O.B.

The robot went flying, and Sucy reacted immediately, Yoshi’s tail striking upwards to send R.O.B soaring off the top of the blast zone.

“Oh you shouldn’t’a did that,” Amanda said sadly.

“Um, sorry?” Akko stuttered out, turning to Constanze and offering a smile of truce.

Constanze narrowed her eyes.

Twenty-seven seconds later—Amanda timed it—aaand… 

_ “Player Four… Defeated!” _

Akko slumped back, mildly terrified at the laser-like precision with which Constanze had obliterated her two remaining lives. “Just how good  _ are _ you?” Akko asked.

Constanze didn’t respond, instead carrying Sucy’s Yoshi off the edge with aerial strikes and stomping him into the abyss with R.O.B’s jets.

“Oh.”

Constanze smirked.

The confidence was impressive. Akko kinda wondered how it must feel to be  _ that _ good at something. Well, she’d had her animation, right? And she  _ was _ good at it but the reveal of the sheer gulf between the level she was at and the level Professor Ursula expected her to be on by the end of the year was… scary. Really scary.

It wasn’t even the amount of work, although that  _ was _ certainly one scary aspect, but it was the fact it was all gonna be in areas of animation she wasn’t as good at. Areas she’d neglected, or not even known  _ existed. _ And that was on top of having four other courses to keep up with.

It was all just… overwhelming. To the point where she was starting to wonder if she should leave soon so she could go over a couple more of the exercises Ursula had set her, just to  _ try _ and keep up.

Oh well, at least she had— _ wait shit she’d left LadyBeatrice on read for like fifteen minutes. _

**LadyBeatrice** : I’m glad you find my process quite so amusing.  _ Some _ of us like to treat writing with the respect it deserves, but I suppose this is to be expected of your particular brand of irreverence.

**LadyBeatrice** : What is your process, then? Do you type directly onto the upload page, then publish without a further thought?

**LadyBeatrice** : Akko?

**ShinyAkko** : Shit, sorry was hanging out with friends, forgot to say brb.

**ShinyAkko** : Nahhh I type into Google Docs then paste it over.

**ShinyAkko** : Ur right about the no thoughts tho. No beta either we die like men.

**LadyBeatrice** : That  _ does _ explain a lot.

**LadyBeatrice** : And it’s quite alright, I apologise for pestering you.

**ShinyAkko** : Nah it’s k, mb for taking the piss out of the fountain pen thing then leaving you on read for like 15 mins lol.

**LadyBeatrice** : Taking the  _ what? _

**ShinyAkko** : Oh, that not an expression where you’re from?

**ShinyAkko** : Slang term I picked up at uni. Means mocking, basically.

**LadyBeatrice** : Hm.

**LadyBeatrice** : I’ll let you return to your friends. Good evening, Akko.

Akko scrambled to type her next response as quickly as possible.

**ShinyAkko** : Nah it’s fine! We’re playing games so I can just chat between rounds dw. Might be slow to reply when I’m in game but I’m good to hang for a bit!

**ShinyAkko** : What’s the new fic gonna be about?

_ LadyBeatrice is typing… _

“Get it get it get it!” Amanda nearly screamed.

Akko glanced up to see a Smash Ball had spawned, and the five remaining players were clamouring for it all at once. It bounced around Hyrule Fight Club much like the usual denizens, taking kicks, plasma shots, hammer blows, and eventually—

_ “Lotte!?” _

“How do I use it?” Lotte wailed.

“B!”

“Where’s the B bu—oh!” Lotte finally found the right button. A giant iceberg appeared in the middle of the screen, piercing everyone into the roof of Hyrule Fight Club and sending them spiralling into random directions.

_ “Player One… Defeated! _ ” Amanda groaned.

_ “Player Two… Defeated!” _ Jasminka clapped Lotte on the shoulder proudly.

_ “Player Five… Defeated!” _

“How did you die to your own Final Smash!?” Amanda asked incredulously.

“I don’t know!” Lotte wailed, having slipped off the edge of the iceberg to her death.

It was down to Sucy and Constanze. One life to two. Dinosaur against robot.

It wasn’t even close.

_ “GAME! R.O.B wins!” _ Constanze’s face lit up in a bright little smile.

“OK.” Sucy let out a long sigh. “OK. You. Me. No items. Final Destination.” She clicked back to the game set up and started adjusting the rules. “I have to know just how good you are.”

Constanze looked across to Sucy, newfound respect evident on her face, and nodded.

Akko returned to her phone as they continued with the setup for the game.

**LadyBeatrice** : The piece is intended to be a meditation on the topics of loneliness and loss. The central themes are the sense of isolation that comes with the loss of loved ones. How loss digs into a person’s soul, such that even happy times can feel hollow with the knowledge that those that have been lost cannot experience them with you.

**ShinyAkko** : Oh, so like, Chariot feeling sad about not having Croix around anymore?

**LadyBeatrice** : That would be one aspect of it, yes. The earlier parts of the work focus more around the loss of her mother. The second and third acts discuss the difficulty of allowing Croix into her life, allowing her to fill that void of love in her heart, and the pain of having that trust broken, having the love ripped away from her once more.

**LadyBeatrice** : A metaphor I’ve been trying to include is the adage that everything “dies twice.” First, when it dies. Second, when it is forgotten. The concept of Chariot’s sense of love being truly “forgotten” strikes me as uniquely powerful.

**ShinyAkko** : I mean, that’s very interesting and deep and all, but uh

**ShinyAkko** : Since when is Chariot’s mom even dead?

**ShinyAkko** : Like I get what you’re going for there when you explain it like that, but why even write it as Chariot if you’re having to invent a dead mom to make the plot work?

**LadyBeatrice** : I’ve always found one of the most empowering aspects of fan fiction is how it encourages the writer to add detail and colour to a character where it is lacking. Chariot’s backstory is left deliberately vague, so I find it entirely reasonable to fill that space out with my own ideas.

**ShinyAkko** : And all those ideas are sad?

**LadyBeatrice** : I fail to see your point?

**ShinyAkko** : I dunno.

**ShinyAkko** : I’m not saying you can’t add angsty backstory stuff if it’s what you wanna do but like

**ShinyAkko** :  _ Why _ do you wanna do that? What does it have to do with Shiny Chariot?

**ShinyAkko** : The idea of Chariot feeling empty and not enjoying school or magic without Croix around is actually really interesting! And I don’t even like angst half the time!

**ShinyAkko** : But what’s cool about it is that it all grows from stuff that’s already there in the show, y’know?

**ShinyAkko** : Idk, adding a dead mom doesn’t make the same idea twice as good, imo?

**LadyBeatrice** : I understand your criticisms, but this is  _ my _ work, Akko.

Akko closed her phone with a sigh, glancing up at the screen to see Constanze already had Sucy on her last life, but was on a little over ninety damage herself. At this point, it wasn’t whether Sucy could win, it was whether she’d emerge with a single KO to salvage her pride.

On hearing her sigh, Amanda immediately glanced over, mouthing “You OK?” silently.

Akko nodded, shooting her a thumbs up. She hopped over to Messenger.

**Akko** : All’s good, just a friend having bad taste lmao

**Amanda** : Aight cool

**Amanda** : Also ur wise not to take the bet

**Amanda** : Conz is like Munich champion at this game lol

**Akko** : :O

**Amanda** : Legit me and Jasna can 2v1 her and it’s still a slaughter, Sucy’s a demon for even getting this close to taking a life

**Akko** : Holy crap is there anything Conz doesn’t kick ass at?

**Amanda** : Basketball.

**Akko** : LMAO

Lotte gasped suddenly. Akko looked back to see Sucy had finally found an opening on Constanze, Yoshi’s flutter kick stamping R.O.B across the stage. Constanze reacted immediately, rolling away from Yoshi the instant R.O.B touched the ground.

Sucy had been expecting that.

Yoshi’s Egg Toss soared through the air, having read perfectly where Constanze was going to roll to. The egg connected, Yoshi was already dashing in to follow up, comboing the egg hit into a head smash that sent R.O.B blasting across the screen.

An explosion of cheers erupted as Constanze lost her first life. “Yes!” Sucy’s composure completely disintegrated as she celebrated her victory. “Fuckin’  _ got one.” _

Constanze respawned and killed Sucy within five seconds. Sucy didn’t care, still cackling to herself.

Constanze hopped off the bed, making her way over to Sucy’s seat as the announcer proclaimed R.O.B’s victory. She extended her hand. Sucy shook it with a grin. Constanze returned to her spot on the bed, raising her hand to make a couple of quick gestures.

“She says ‘good game, well played,’” Jasminka translated.

“You too,” Sucy spoke without malice for the first time Akko had ever heard.

“Huh, first time I’ve seen her include the ‘well played’ bit,” Amanda whistled with appreciation.

“Oh, did you two know Constanze before coming here?” Lotte asked.

“Nah, I met these two clowns day one.” Amanda gestured with a grin.

Lotte paused for a moment to process. “You both learned to speak German Sign Language in less than a month?” she asked, amazed.

“Barely.” Amanda waved her off. “I picked up a few quick things to save her the effort of using her chalkboard for stuff like, ‘thanks,’ ‘good game,’ or ‘can you grab that off the top shelf for me?’ Trying to learn more as I go, y’know?”

Constanze smiled appreciatively while Jasminka nodded in agreement.

“That’s really sweet…” Akko could almost feel a tear coming to her eye. “Wait, can you teach me how to say ‘a believing heart is your magic?’”

Constanze paused to think, then performed a quick series of gestures with one hand. Akko watched intently, wiggling her fingers along with Constanze.

“Like this?” Akko repeated the gestures as best she could.

Constanze shook her head, spelling out the phrase again and exaggerating the gestures Akko had got slightly wrong.

“OK, I think I got it now. This?” Akko responded with a slow sequence of gestures. Constanze nodded in approval.

“Yay! What’s the one for ‘thank you?’” She turned to Amanda.

Amanda made a quick gesture. Akko repeated it, clapping her other hand against it and bowing her head. “Dankeschön, Constanze!”

Constanze smiled, and gave a gesture which Akko assumed was, “You’re welcome.”

Akko pulled out her phone, taking a series of pictures with one hand while performing the phrase Constanze had just taught her with the other. As she finished the last gesture, she heard Sucy asking, “How would you say, ‘I’ll destroy you at Mortal Kombat?’”

Constanze responded by raising a single finger. The room devolved into laughter once more.

**Shiny Akko sent an attachment(s)!**

**LadyBeatrice** : Hm?

**LadyBeatrice** : Is this intended to be a progression from having Chariot flip me off?

**ShinyAkko** : It’s “a believing heart is your magic” in German Sign Language!

**ShinyAkko** : Friend just taught me!

**LadyBeatrice** : Oh, that’s quite fascinating! I learned how to say the expression in English, Japanese, and French myself. Something of a fascination with Hokuto Shichisei’s dubbing, as I recall. I shall have to learn your gestures to add a fourth language to my repertoire!

**ShinyAkko** : Yeah! I’m gonna animate Chariot making the gesture tomorrow! :chariotsmile:

**ShinyAkko** : Well, maybe in a couple days, got some homework to catch up on. :croixsob:

**LadyBeatrice** : I’m glad to see you’re taking your studies so seriously. I admit I, somewhat uncharitably, had the impression of you as the type of person to neglect your academic responsibilities in favour of more frivolous activities.

**ShinyAkko** : I am  _ shocked _ and  _ offended _ at these insinuations.

**ShinyAkko sent an attachment!**

**ShinyAkko** : As you can see, I am hard at work studying the intricacies of how to not get my ass kicked at Smash Bros.

**ShinyAkko** : Probably gonna fail this class :chariotded:

**LadyBeatrice** : Haha! I confess to a lack of familiarity with computer games, but spending time with one’s friends is certainly an excellent use of free time.

**LadyBeatrice** : Actually, I was going to make a request of you with regards to our earlier conversation, but I shall postpone it since your time is at a premium.

**ShinyAkko** : Oh nah, go ahead! Depends how much time it takes ofc but if I get some time free I can help out. What you need? :chariotcurious:

**LadyBeatrice** : Well, it’s not a request you should feel any obligation to fulfil if you do not have the requisite time available. However, if you  _ do _ have some time to spare for a project… 

_ LadyBeatrice is typing…  _

**ShinyAkko** : The suspense is killing me :charioteager:

**LadyBeatrice** : I would like to commission you to draw a picture to accompany my current Work In Progress when it is completed. My concept for the piece is that of a young Chariot, roughly ten or eleven years of age, holding the hand of a larger figure, implied to be her mother. The older figure should be in some way indistinct, likely with her back to the viewer, perhaps hazy or ethereal, but I leave the specifics of that to the artist’s interpretation. I would like it if Chariot was looking up towards where her mother’s face would be, with a somewhat troubled expression. I recognise that is a rather vague description, but I am torn between describing her expression as bittersweet, loving, regretful, and, well, I suppose there’s no easy word to describe the appearance of, “struggling to remember a person’s face.”

**LadyBeatrice** : Also I would prefer if the drawing was similar to the art style of Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot, but I understand that is your usual approach regardless.

**ShinyAkko** : OK gimme a sec LOL.

**ShinyAkko** : Yeah I can do that! Shouldn’t take me too long, np! I can send you updates as I go so you can let me know if the expression is matching up to what you were thinking?

**LadyBeatrice** : That would be excellent, thank you. My story will likely not be done for at least another week, perhaps two, depending on the editing process. However, you need not treat that as a deadline, I am fine with delaying its release until such time as your art is done.

**ShinyAkko** : Dw I’ll have it done before two weeks lol :chariotgrin:

**LadyBeatrice** : I suppose all that’s left to discuss then is your fee. I am unaware if you have a Tumblr or similar, so I’m unsure as to your usual pricings.

**ShinyAkko** : Never done it before lol, idk how much I should charge? Gimme a sec.

**LadyBeatrice** : Might I make an offer then? Feel free to negotiate if you believe I am underselling your work’s value.

**ShinyAkko** : Sure?

Akko paused to think. How much  _ should _ she charge? A drawing like what LadyBeatrice wanted would only take her a couple hours, at most. About fifteen quid, then? Maybe twenty if it took her a little longer? LadyBeatrice would probably start around ten, and Akko could negotiate her up to fifteen. Easy!

**LadyBeatrice** : Given the quality of your work, and the standard pricing for commissions of a similar level of quality that I have seen on Tumblr, I would expect to pay about £75.

**ShinyAkko** : WHUH

**LadyBeatrice** : However, given that you are an expert in the particular field of mimicking Shiny Chariot’s art style, and that I would like to use your services again in future, assuming this piece matches the quality I have already seen of your work, I hope that you find an initial offer of £100 acceptable?

_ “Holy fuck!” _ Akko screamed out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww look they're still talking. And they even managed to not bicker for like, some of it! Good for them.
> 
> Oh btw, if anyone wants to come and hang out on Discord, I have a server that I'm on that's aimed at LWA creators (writers / artists primarily, but we got some fans too) which is v chill and a fun place to be. If you're interested, add our admin at esn#6969 and she can sort you out with an invite! Hope to see you there!


	9. Like Fire, Pt 1

Diana set her pen down carefully on its holder and heaved a sigh. The words simply would not come to her. It was as if there was a clot, stifling the ink from flowing onto the page as she desired.

 _Why?_ The question rang out in her mind as it had been doing all evening. Every time she found herself stuck on a sentence, or began to stare around her room as she struggled to think of how to tie her current thought to the next, the single dominating thought was that this _did not_ usually happen to her.

Diana simply did not experience writer’s block. Admittedly, her outlining process was a slow one, and often featured long stretches where she waited for inspiration, or for the moment of eureka when multiple ideas that had been drifting around her mind slotted together. However, once she _had_ those pieces in place, the actual writing process was a breeze.

Except it _wasn’t_ this time. Which was _infuriating._ It made no sense! Her outline was as thorough as it ever was, with each scene meticulously detailed not just for narrative events, but themes and underlying metaphor as well. The first scene was already written! And she _knew_ exactly what she was going to write for this scene as well! So why couldn’t she write it!?

Alright. Focus, Diana. Complaining about writer’s block won’t get you anywhere. Discipline would triumph over adversity, as it always had. If the writing was slower, then so be it, she would still _write._

She lifted her pen once more.

_Chariot’s fingers closed around nothingness itself. Where a hand once had been, now emptiness was all she could feel for companionship. It was as if the nothingness was a physical manifestation, more real than anything she could truly touch, more real than her own skin. More real than the ghost of a memory of her mother’s hand that had once—_

Diana recoiled back in shock at the ugly slash of ink she’d left on the page in her frustration. She instantly turned her pen over in her hand, thoroughly checking the delicate tip, refusing to even breathe until she was certain she hadn’t damaged it.

Her breathing returned as she saw it undamaged, but no relief accompanied it. She almost wanted to continue holding her breath. Why? As a punishment to herself? It wasn’t like one could _actually_ cause themselves any harm by holding their breath forever. The human body’s self-preservation instincts would always respond no matter commands the brain issued.

Diana meticulously cleaned off her pen and returned it to its case, whispering an apology as she did so. Why? To whom? The pen itself? Preposterous. Who, then? It couldn’t be its previous owner, after all. The real Lady Beatrice Cavendish had died before Diana was even born.

And it couldn’t be the woman who’d gifted her grandmother’s pen to her. She had also—

Diana pushed her chair back abruptly. What was _happening_ to her? Why was writing about Chariot’s dead mother causing her such distress? Yes, the answer might seem obvious, but it was hardly the _first_ time she’d written about the topic! Admittedly, it had never been the basis for a story to quite the extent it was with this piece, but she had written at length and in depth about the pain of Chariot losing her mother before!

Just the last scene, no less! Of course, that scene had been written with Chariot’s mother still living, but the _language_ and the _metaphor_ all clearly showed her impending passing. A sword of Damocles hanging over young Chariot that the _character_ did not know was there but the _readers_ did. It was standard narrative practice. Something she did all the time.

So why was _dropping_ that sword bringing her such distress?

Diana blinked, feeling a slight dampness. Her hands flew to the corners of her eyes, but she found them almost bone dry.

Of course she couldn’t cry.

She hadn’t even cried at her mother’s funeral.

Almost unconsciously, Diana’s hand flew back to her pen and her notes journal. Fantastic line, write it down—

But that wasn’t true of Chariot, was it?

Chariot cried all the time. In Season 1 alone, she cried twice in the opening episode, three times in Episode 4, once briefly in Episode 6, and again in— The _point_ was, Chariot cried. A lot. So why had Diana considered writing the contrary down for her character? Wouldn’t it make more sense for Croix? But no, Croix cried too. Less frequently, but it happened. Tears had stained her eyes heavily in Diana’s favourite scene, a scene that lived eternally in her mind.

So why had she even thought to write the line down?

Her conversation with Akko replayed itself once again, a near constant feature of her past few days. Was Akko _right?_ Diana had been dismissive at the time of the mere concept that a writer as unskilled as Akko could have any advice to offer her… But on Diana’s many re-reads of the chat log, she’d had to come to a bitter conclusion.

Akko’s point had been well made.

She hadn’t even been that rude. Sure, she’d been a little flippant about Diana’s fountain pen, but that was just teasing, wasn’t it? Diana didn’t get teased often. Hannah and Barbara teased one another, sure, but never Diana. But that only meant that teasing could be affectionate, did it not? Those two were the closest friends Diana had ever seen, so if _they_ teased one another, did that not mean that Akko teasing Diana could also be affectionate?

Should she ask?

Would that be strange? Diana had asked such questions before, and always received strange looks. She’d already begun drafting a message to Akko in her head to ask if her teasing about the pen had been meant affectionately or insultingly. Would she just get “lmao how r u real?” back?

But again, on re-reading the conversation, it was clear that she’d also upset Akko in some way. She wasn’t sure how, or which particular thing she’d said had caused it, but she knew she _had._ Frankly, she was extremely grateful Akko had even agreed to accept her commission at the end. An artist as talented as she was could afford to be giving commissions to those who _didn’t_ insult her, even accidentally.

Diana hissed air out through her nose. It was as if each of them was fire to the other. As if there was nothing they could do to avoid being burned if they spent too long in contact with one another. Yet she was drawn to that fire. Despite the pain it sometimes caused, the warmth was worth it.

Why was that? The obvious answer was that Akko was the first person she’d been able to speak to about Shiny Chariot in _years._ Even Barbara, who read every single one of her works, had no real idea about the show or its characters. Barbara could never have told her that she was writing Chariot out of character.

Barbara, in fact, probably thought that was how Chariot actually _was._

Diana froze. When had she become so disgusted with her own work as to be ashamed that her readers might think her interpretation of Chariot was accurate?

Diana flipped her notebook firmly shut, cringing immediately at the thought of the wet ink blotching between the pages. Particularly that one dark, splotchy scratch she’d left. She would have to rewrite the entire page later.

Or not bother at all. Perhaps she should just throw the piece out entirely, start something new. But where would be the point in that? Would she not merely repeat the same mistakes with whatever her _next_ work was?

Heavens sakes, she had caught herself just a moment short of writing down a line about Crybaby Chariot being too emotionally stunted to shed a tear. And the _more_ terrifying prospect was that just a few short days ago, she would have included the line without hesitation. If not for her conversation with Akko, she would have written that down, published it for all the world to see, and never given so much as a second thought to the matter.

Diana realised abruptly that she’d been holding her breath since the moment she closed her notebook.

Her breath came out in a near cough, sucking air back in hungrily straight after. She almost panted, gasping in shallow gulps of air quickly. Was this a panic attack? Was she prone to those? It didn’t _feel_ like a panic attack. She wasn’t panicking. Weren’t you meant to feel _panic_ during a panic attack? Diana didn’t feel like she was panicking, she just very much wanted to go lie down.

Which she was categorically _not_ going to do. It was barely six, and Diana had not exactly made a habit of early naps. Her sleep schedule wasn’t _entirely_ rigid, but going to bed any earlier than ten felt like a waste when she had so much more she could be doing with her evening.

Speaking of which, Diana’s eyes turned back to her notebook. Her heart seized in her chest. Oh, is _that_ what the panic was meant to feel like? It was quite unpleasant. And she was experiencing that from the thought of continuing her Work In Progress. A work which she had already commissioned artwork from a talented artist for. A work which said artist would almost certainly despise.

Should she just cancel the commission? Akko was busy enough with her university work, and she did not like Diana’s writing. She very _pointedly_ did not like Diana’s writing. It was hardly likely that Akko would have any kind of emotional attachment to the piece she was being asked to draw, so would she feel much disappointment at being asked to cancel it?

Perhaps she would feel disappointed at not receiving the money. Why did the thought of that upset Diana so much? Was she worried that she and Akko would have an almost transactional relationship, built on Diana paying Akko for her artwork? That wasn’t the kind of frie- rela-

 _Damn it all!_ Diana couldn’t even acknowledge in her own mind what kind of relationship she wanted to have with Akko. Was it so hard to think of her as a friend? They spoke to one another, Diana enjoyed speaking to her, that’s what a friend was, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

Diana tried thinking of her friendships with Hannah or Barbara. Her relationship with Akko was… not like that. Hannah or Barbara never criticised Diana’s writing, or, well, Diana’s anything, really. They also weren’t _nearly_ so informal as Akko was. Was _that_ what Diana valued about Akko? That she felt free to criticise Diana as she saw fit? Surely not, that French girl who transferred in during sixth form had _hated_ Diana, had criticised and insulted her at every opportunity.

Diana hadn’t wanted to be friends with Chloe. In fact, merely being in the same _room_ as Chloe had made Diana feel even worse than looking at her notebook was doing right now.

So it wasn’t that. Was her friendship with Akko more akin to what Barbara and Hannah had with one another? Diana never got the impression that their teasing with each other was causing any hurt. She’d asked when they were younger, and both had laughed her off and said it was just the kind of friendship they had. One where they called each other “thirsty hoes” over whichever boys they found attractive, apparently.

Perhaps she should call Akko a “thirsty hoe” over her love of Chariot. The thought of it almost made Diana crack a smile. It _would_ be quite funny, now she thought of it. Was that how Akko had felt when she said Diana was “a parody of herself?”

Diana hadn’t found that joke all that funny. Should she have said so? She found many of Akko’s other jokes very funny. The one about “failing the class” by losing at a computer game she was playing with her friends had made Diana laugh out loud! Should she ask Akko to refrain from making jokes at her expense? Was Diana simply being overly sensitive?

Would Akko just laugh at her again?

Why did that thought scare Diana so much?

Part of her wanted to just message Akko. To clarify if they were truly friends, or just the two remaining people who occupied the same fandom. To ask if Akko had intended or even realised that she’d upset Diana. To ask what she’d said that had upset Akko so as to avoid it in future. Would she even be able to avoid it? She could try, at least.

The task towered above her like Olympus itself.

Diana settled for the next best thing.

**LadyBeatrice** : Apologies for the interruption, I assume you are studying. What is your usual process for dealing with writer’s block? I do not often have to deal with it, so have not developed an effective process to respond to the issue. I would be interested to hear if you have any experience with writer’s block, and what your usual strategies are to deal with it if so.

That would do, she supposed. It _was_ a topic Diana wished to discuss, at any rate. Although she wasn’t sure Akko would have the _best_ approach developed, if her quality of writing was anything to go by. Perhaps she should look up some online advice on dealing with writer’s block? Or perhaps—

Diana froze in place again. How had she forgotten that her housemate was an _English Literature student?_ One who had spent many years reading over Diana’s drafts and telling her they were excellent. But then, Barbara hadn’t known Diana was writing the characters incorrectly, had she? She was merely commenting on the other qualities of the work. But more to the point, she might know some useful techniques for dealing with writer’s block.

**Diana** : Barbara, I don’t suppose you know of any techniques to effectively deal with writer’s block?

 **Barbara** : Oof, nah sorry.

 **Barbara** : Some of us mere mortals just read.

 **Diana** : Ah, that’s a shame. I am struggling somewhat with my current piece. I don’t suppose any of your classmates would be willing to provide some assistance on the matter?

 **Barbara** : Oh, I got a better idea actually.

 **Barbara** : Some of my classmates go to Creative Writing Soc. The ones who write, anyway. I tried going last week but it was kinda meh. But if you wanna give it a shot, they’re on today at 7, undergrad common room in the English Department.

Diana paused. Creative Writing Society? They _would_ certainly be best equipped to deal with her current problem. Although Diana was unsure if it would be worth travelling all the way to the centre of campus merely to ask a single question, and she was _not_ going to be sharing any of her fanfiction.

And, more to the point… 

**Diana** : Did you not say that Andrew Hanbridge was the President?

 **Barbara** : Yeah. He knows his stuff, and I’m not just saying that because you could cut diamonds on his jawline.

 **Diana** : You thirsty hoe.

Diana snorted at her own joke, tuning out the stream of shocked messages from Barbara as she made her decision. She’d go to Creative Writing Society, she’d ask them about approaches with writer’s block, and maybe see if they had any other advice available. Diana _did_ wish to hone her craft, after all.

With her mind made up, Diana stood decisively, and headed for the door.

* * *

Diana navigated through the English department, stopping to glance at a map on the wall to check her bearings. She’d checked the room’s location on her phone while making her way across campus, of course, but Luna Nova’s corridors had a nasty habit of turning labyrinthine if one became unsure of their location for even a moment.

Diana had even heard a rumour that the map descriptions and room numbers had been made deliberately confusing, in order to foster communication by forcing students to stop and ask one another for directions. A nice story, but it struck Diana as the type of urban legend designed to explain away the more mundane reality: that this was an old university, and when new sections had been added, no effort was made to ensure the map conventions were consistent from department to department.

Regardless, Diana was headed the right way, and still had ten minutes to spare before the meeting started. Unfortunately, not quite enough time to grab a latte from the Polaris Cafe, but perhaps she could treat herself to one after the event, depending on how late it ran.

Actually, had Diana remembered to eat before she left? Oh dear. She would have to text the girls and tell them to just make dinner for themselves. No doubt she would arrive home to empty takeaway boxes, but she could begrudge them their indulgences, considering her own recently made plan was to leave early and pick up a wrap and a coffee from Polaris.

The door to the common room appeared as she rounded the corner. A orange-haired girl was already standing outside, glancing furtively about as she waited. At least, Diana assumed they were here for the same purpose. She certainly looked the bookish sort at any rate, if the thick glasses were anything to go by.

“You are here for the meeting of the Creative Writing Society, yes?” Diana asked.

“Oh!” The girl with glasses almost fell back in surprise as Diana spoke to her. “Yeah, got here a bit early. It’ll be starting in a couple of minutes I think.”

Diana moved towards the door, raising a hand.

The girl shook her head quickly. “I don’t think they want us to go in before they finish setting up.”

Diana stilled. Odd, but she supposed there were worse things to do than wait in a hallway with a shy bookish girl. Hopefully in comfortable silence.

“Is this your first time?” the girl asked. “Sorry, I didn’t see you last week.”

“Yes,” Diana responded.

The girl nodded, allowing the silence to refill the corridor.

Diana glanced at her phone. Six minutes to seven. Not too long to wait, thankfully.

“What are you studying?” the girl asked again. Diana maintained a neutral expression as she continued. “I do English Lit, so I guess you must do Creative Writing then if I don’t recognise you?”

Diana shook her head. “Medicine. I simply enjoy writing as a hobby.”

“That’s great!” The girl smiled. “You’re kinda the opposite of me then. I don’t actually like writing all that much.”

Diana quirked a single eyebrow in surprise, the obvious question remaining unasked.

The girl chuckled nervously. “I just really like seeing _other_ people write,” she explained. “I like helping them out, being someone they can discuss their ideas with, that kinda thing.”

Diana nodded. Strange, but hardly the strangest reason in the world to attend a writing society.

“Do you have a favourite book?” The girl asked.

“Wuthering Heights,” Diana replied automatically.

“Oh I _love_ Wuthering Heights!” The girl’s eyes sparkled behind her glasses. “The Brontës were some of the first authors I tried to read in English, back when I was, I think thirteen? Well, second. My first was, uh, Ni—” she paused, eyes suddenly widening. “…Pride and Prejudice?”

Diana nodded. “An excellent choice to start with, Jane Austen’s dialogue is masterful. Her influence on the canon of English-speaking novels truly cannot be overstated.”

“Yeah!” The girl declared, looking oddly relieved, for some reason. “It’s like, there’s so many layers aside from just what’s being said by the characters, like all the sarcasm!” The girl almost glowed as she talked.

“Indeed. In fact, I spent a significant amount of time studying the use of sarcasm in Austen’s writing when I was younger,” Diana said.

“Ohhh, like for school? That’s a really interesting essay topic!” the girl responded.

“No, that’s not quite what I—” Diana started, before the door clicked open.

Andrew Hanbridge stood in the door.

A single eyebrow raised, which for Andrew was the equivalent of his jaw hitting the floor. “Miss Cavendish? An unexpected surprise, I had been led to believe you read medicine?”

“Mr Hanbridge.” Diana nodded curtly. “I do. Writing is a hobby of mine.”

“A hobby?” His eyebrow stayed raised. “Well, you certainly won’t be the first student from outside the English department to attend. Please make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to a set of comfortable chairs that had been arrayed around a long table in the centre of the common room.

Two chairs sat on the other side, in front of a whiteboard. A boy with a ridiculous blonde hairdo that was halfway to being a pompadour sat in one of the chairs, glancing up as Diana pulled out one of the seats towards the edge of the setup. “Oh hey, new person!” He stood up, extending a hand across the table. “Nice to meet you, I’m Frank, the VP.”

Diana shook his hand, giving him a light incline of the head before sitting down in her chair. Frank continued on with his spiel. “New members are welcome to join one session as a taster kind of thing, however after that we do request that you pay your membership fees before you come to any more meetings. If you haven’t already, Miss…?”

“Diana hasn’t signed up, I would have noticed her name on the members list,” Andrew said, moving towards the second seat on the other side of the desk as the glasses-wearing girl made her way into the room behind him.

“Oh, you two know each other?” Frank said. “Any kinda history I should be aware of?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Diana stared at Frank disbelievingly, turning an almost revulsed stare towards Andrew, who was doing much the same, thank _heaven._

“…I’ll take that as a no!” Frank clapped his hands together with a smile. “Anyway, since this is just the second meeting of the term, we’ll talk you through what we usually do once everyone else arrives, don’t worry about being out of your depth or anything.”

Diana nodded, pointedly not looking anywhere near Andrew Hanbridge. Honestly, she’d considered just asking Frank about writer’s block tips and heading on her way, but she was loathe to waste a trip onto campus.

And perhaps Andrew would be able to make himself of some use. Barbara had complained last week that he’d been too busy running the event to flirt with her, which, admittedly, probably spoke more loudly about Barbara than it did Andrew. But hopefully it meant he actually took the role of assisting others with their writing seriously. Even if he _was_ an impossibly smug git.

The chair next to her shifted. Diana turned to see the orange-haired girl she’d spoken to outside sitting down next to her, giving a little smile to Frank, who turned his attention to her with a bright wave.

“Oh, my apologies, I didn’t see you there Lotte!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :o


	10. Like Fire, Pt 2

Diana was… well, bored wasn’t the right word. Unsurprised, perhaps. The first hour or so had passed with a group discussion led by Andrew on various themes suggested by members of the society. Diana had spoken up once or twice when the topic turned to a theme she was familiar with writing, but for the most part she had kept quiet.

“Loneliness,” a pale girl from the other edge of the table suggested.

Andrew nodded. “Good topic. Has anyone anything to suggest on approaching writing the theme of loneliness?”

Diana raised her hand. Andrew looked at her strangely. Diana cleared her throat. “Ahem. One aspect of writing loneliness which I find particularly powerful is to focus not just on a character’s feelings of loneliness, but on the  _ cause _ and  _ effects _ of said loneliness. For example, a recent piece I was drafting dealt heavily with the viewpoint character’s loss of a loved one, and much of the work centred around how that loss affected their ability to enjoy even happier moments.”

“Hmm, a blunt approach, perhaps, but bluntness  _ can _ be effective when dealing with heavier topics such as loss.” Andrew’s gaze turned away from her. “Would anyone like to add to Diana’s point? Or perhaps offer their own contributions on how to best portray the theme of loneliness?”

Someone else answered, but Diana tuned them out.  _ Blunt!? _ She presented an idea so good even  _ Akko, _ who  _ hated _ her work, thought it was fascinating, and all Andrew had to say was that it was  _ blunt? _

Why had Diana expected any better.

Not that Diana was going to just up and leave, of course. Enduring indignities without making a scene was well-ingrained in her skill set. Perhaps during a more natural breakpoint, such as when this  _ interminable _ discussion of themes finally came to an end.

Mercifully, a few minutes later, it did. “If any of you would like refreshments before we continue, you may feel free to use the kettle.” Andrew gestured to the back of the room. “The English department graciously provided us with a small supply of teabags and instant coffee powder, so please, do help yourselves.”

Diana  _ did _ want a coffee, but she drew the line at instant. A lady needed to have  _ some _ standards. After a quick break for a few people to make themselves drinks, Frank rose from his seat, clapping his hands together for attention. “Alright, everybody, I hope your writing brains are nice and warmed up, because it’s time to put them to good use!”

Diana furrowed her brow. He couldn’t possibly be suggesting that they just  _ write? _ She’d left her notebook at home, with all of her outlines still in it!

“OK, taking any and all suggestions for a scene idea…” He looked around the room with an inviting smile. “Come on, don’t be shy, it can be anything!”

“Picnic?” One voice offered.

Frank snapped his fingers, pointing to the speaker. “Fantastic idea! Alright, when that clock hits 7.15, I want you all to write about a picnic for fifteen minutes! No interruptions, no buts, I don’t wanna hear anything other than the scratching of pens!”

Diana’s eyes shot to the clock.  _ 7.13!? _ A hesitant hand rose next to her. “Which characters should we use?” Lotte asked.

“Excellent question, Lotte!” Frank beamed. “You can use any characters you want. Characters from your own writing, or characters you just made up on the spot, whatever you’re feeling! We’ll talk a little about why we’re doing that after you’re all done, but for now, get writing!”

Diana’s hand shot up. “I don’t have anything to write on,” she said, flinching at the people who turned to stare at her. Why had she not brought any writing equipment to a Creative Writing Society? It was all moving too quickly.

“Not a problem, I think we got some spare paper over here.” Frank rooted around and pulled out a couple of sheets. “You got a pen?”

Diana blanched. She  _ did _ have a pen in her bag, now she thought of it, but it wasn’t  _ her _ pen. She couldn’t be expected to write with this  _ biro, _ could she?

But she could. The paper was shuffled across the table to her, and Frank was counting down the seconds to 7.15, and she wasn’t  _ ready _ she hadn’t made any  _ notes _ she hadn’t  _ prepared for this! _

“Alright folks, get started! Fifteen minutes, no interruptions, good luck all!” Frank called, sitting down at his own space and beginning to write himself.

Diana’s brain was turning to mush. What was she meant to  _ write? _ Chariot and Croix having a picnic, apparently? In  _ fifteen minutes? _ Sure, she could do that if she’d had an hour or two to prep and outline beforehand, but  _ this!? _

Fine. Whatever. It’s not like this work would have any value at all. May as well just throw down something to satisfy this ridiculous prompt and then be done. At least when  _ this _ was dreadful, there would be a reason for it.

* * *

Croix sat down on her picnic blanket, glancing around with something akin to fury. Twelve past two. Chariot had promised she would arrive not a minute past the hour, but the lilac-haired witch should have known better than to rely on her French friend’s sense of timekeeping.

_ Friend. _ The word danced around Croix’s mind as if it were made of fire. As if it burned her thoughts everywhere it touched. Was “friend” truly the right word to describe what Chariot was to her? It wasn’t the  _ wrong  _ word, but Croix couldn’t help but feel it was in some way… inadequate. Incomplete.

These thoughts had been increasingly common, of late. So too had that sensation of burning whenever Chariot filled her mind, as if her fiery red hair truly lived up to its namesake. She blazed like the most intense flame, yet Croix could not imagine living without her warmth.

Best friend, then? Well, obviously. How could Chariot be anything but? Chariot was the blazing beacon which gave direction to Croix’s existence. The lighthouse which guided her to the shore through the darkest storm. She was Croix’s best and closest friend, and yet she was so much more.

A single word danced in Croix’s mind. It also contained the word “friend,” yet it burned so much more painfully. Because this word wasn’t true.

Chariot was her friend. Chariot was her best friend.

Chariot was not her girlfriend.

And she never would be, so long as Croix continued to live her life afraid of the fire. Afraid of that which had burned in her heart for so long.

Cold could burn just the same as heat. Croix knew that well.

So why did she not ask?

Fear, of course. Fear that Chariot’s flame would burn on forever brightly, while Croix was left frozen and alone.

However.

Was not Chariot the one who had challenged her every fear? Was not Chariot the one who had faced every adversity, not just of her own, but for all those she considered friends?

Was not Chariot the one that had ignited the flame within Croix’s heart.

How could she ever be cold when the flame burned within?

Suddenly, her vision was set alight. Chariot arrived, running as fast as she could and hailing Croix from a distance as she approached.

“Hey there!” The redhead laughed as she neared their picnic blanket. “Sorry I’m late, you wouldn’t believe what happened today!”

The flame burned stronger still.

* * *

“Aaand time up!” Frank announced. “Pens down, everybody!”

What? Diana wasn’t finished! She’d barely even  _ started! _ The picnic itself had only just begun, and Croix hadn’t even uttered a single line of dialogue!

“Alright, now I’m gonna cede the floor to our renowned expert.” Frank bowed graciously, extending his arms towards Andrew, who sighed at the theatrics as he rose.

“Very well.” Andrew straightened his tie. “As Frank said, we will now discuss why it is that we had you write with such little preparation and such freedom of choice of character. Do any of you have any thoughts as to why that might be?” He cast his gaze around the room.

“To get us writing with as few preconceived thoughts as possible?” said a girl towards the middle.

Andrew nodded. “Certainly, that is one aspect of it. One of the aims of this exercise is to allow each of you to explore what it is that you are subconsciously feeling, both about the characters you chose, as well as yourselves and your writing. To have you write in the moment, as it were.”

Frank nodded along, interjecting, “Yeah, the way I see it is that if we did that exact prompt yesterday, you’d all write pretty different things just cause your heads would have been in different places. Maybe you’d have chosen different characters! Maybe the characters you came up with would’ve been completely different!”

Andrew nodded once. “Precisely. With that in mind, let us turn our thoughts firstly to the choice of characters. Why did you choose the characters that you did? What was it about those characters that made you decide they would be the perfect fit for a picnic? Or were they simply the characters you are most comfortable writing? Once you have answered those questions, examine why you chose to describe your characters in the manner you did. Was it different from how you normally describe or imagine them? Why do you think that might be?”

“Or, for those of you who made up your characters on the spot, how did you describe them? What about the premise made you choose the details you did? Come on now, really think about it! Feel free to discuss with your neighbours if you want!” Frank clapped his hands, before turning to have a hushed conversation with Andrew.

Diana gazed over the page she’d written. Why had she chosen those characters? Because she always did, there was nothing new about that decision. Perhaps a better question would be, why had she selected Croix as the viewpoint character? There was something to analyse there, she supposed. Chariot was certainly the more outgoing of the two, so would have seemed the natural choice for a picnic scene, but Croix was quieter, more introspective. Was that a reflection of how Diana imagined a quiet, peaceful picnic? Or a reflection of Diana’s recent mood?

She wasn’t sure.

As for the  _ descriptions _ she chose… she hadn’t even had the time. Aside from a single line about Croix’s lilac hair, her appearance had been left entirely to the reader’s imagination. One of the pitfalls of writing fan fiction, she supposed. Chariot, on the other hand… 

Diana had described her as a flame. As a beacon that burned brightly against the darkness and cold. Of course, she’d tied that in to talking about Chariot’s burning red hair, but the metaphor would have worked if Chariot had been blonde, brunette, or even blue-haired. Her hair being red added an extra layer, but was non-essential to the deeper meaning of Diana’s descriptors.

But… why had Diana focused on Chariot as a flame? She’d made the comparison before, but  _ here _ it was almost the entirety of what she had written. Was there something in what Frank said, that her recent thoughts had spurred her in this direction with her writing? She couldn’t think of anything that had happened today which would have inspired her to write Chariot akin to a fire, aside from perhaps an intrusive thought about setting her notebook alight.

Diana sighed through her nose. This thought wasn’t getting her anywhere. The entire experience had been a waste, and all she had to show for it was a few hundred hastily written words about Chariot being on fire.

“Now that you’ve all had a moment to think, I would like you to swap your piece with your neighbour,” Andrew interrupted her thoughts. “Think about what we just discussed. Why do you think your neighbour chose the characters or descriptors which they did? How does their portrayal of the picnic differ to your own? Please, be active in your discussions!”

“But be polite!” Frank wagged his finger. “Build each other up, keep criticisms constructive!”

Diana blanched. Show her writing to the girl sitting next to her!? Diana’s eyes locked on Lotte, smiling gently at her and holding out her own sheet. No no no, Diana was  _ not _ sharing this hastily written slop with  _ anybody, _ particularly not a girl she’d met barely two hours ago.

And  _ especially _ not when Diana had just written  _ anime fan fiction _ at a dignified writing society.

“I’m terribly sorry, I just noticed the time,” Diana apologised, folding her sheet unevenly and standing up. “My housemates had planned dinner for eight, so I must be on my way.”

Andrew made a noncommittal hum, but Frank stood from his seat. “Shame to see you leave so early, Diana, but it was great to have you here! Will we see you next week?” He smiled eagerly.

Diana hesitated. “Perhaps. My studies keep me quite occupied, so I shall have to see.”

Frank nodded, giving her a wave. “In that case, I Hope to see you next week, bye Diana!”

Lotte echoed his sentiments, offering a quiet, “Nice to meet you, Diana.”

“It was nice to meet you as well, Lotte,” Diana nodded, before moving towards the door slightly more quickly than was strictly polite. She stopped at the threshold. “Ah, one thing before I go.” She turned back to Frank. “Would you happen to have any advice on dealing with writer’s block? I do not usually struggle with it, but found myself quite vexed with the issue earlier.”

“Usually, I just do a sprint like we did there,” Frank responded with a shrug. “Having someone else to do it with can really help keep me on track, it’s like peer pressure for writing!” He laughed at his own joke, a few other people in the room snickered.

Diana nodded curtly. “I see. Perhaps I shall try that approach, then. Thank you, and my apologies for the interruption.”

The door swung shut with a heavy thump.

* * *

Diana sat in the Polaris cafe, gazing out over the campus square as she sipped her now lukewarm latte. Dusk had been and gone, and darkness had settled over campus. However, not even the envelopment of night nor the brisk October air could keep Luna Nova’s student body from enjoying their Thursday evening. Throngs of students laughed and joked, some standing around in groups on the square, others on their way to or from some event or other. Probably a society meeting of some sort, or perhaps one of the many bars on campus.

Diana had never been into any of the bars. She had never had any particular interest in drinking, and particularly not with her wealth of first-hand knowledge of how a glass of wine too many turned her usually unpleasant Aunt into someone downright cruel.

Speaking of drunks, a sudden commotion started up in the centre of the square, in front of the Supernova Bar. A tall girl with blazing orange hair and a shorter girl with a brunette half-ponytail with their backs turned to Diana were play-wrestling in front of the fountain, shouting and hollering at one another. A wave of laughter went up from the surrounding students as one or both of them tripped, sending both of them stumbling into the fountain with a splash.

Diana rolled her eyes, and returned to finishing the last of her chicken wrap.

Creative Writing Society had been…  _ was _ it a waste of time? All Diana had to show for it was a single page of writing and reaffirmed knowledge that Andrew Hanbridge was a smug, condescending, unlikeable bastion of everything that the aristocracy should not represent.

Although, she hoped she hadn’t offended Lotte too badly by leaving in the manner she did, without checking over her work in exchange. She seemed nice, pleasant even. There was an oddly familiar comfort in talking to her, certainly aided by her excellent taste in classic romances. Preferable to Barbara’s NightFall nonsense, at any rate.

And all the more reason to  _ not _ show Lotte her hastily written, uncompleted prompt. Diana was a good writer, and she would  _ not _ have the first exposure of her writing be anything quite so shoddy.

But at least a page of writing  _ was _ a page of writing, regardless of the quality.

Diana pulled the paper from her bag. She read it. She re-read it. Her coffee went entirely cold as she read over the page of writing she’d done in a single sitting, with no preparation, on a borrowed sheet, with a biro.

It wasn’t all that bad.

It was actually quite decent as the start of a story. It was on the more light-hearted side, by her standards, but the element of self-doubt in Croix’s inner monologue  _ did _ play to her usual strengths. The lines needed more fleshing out, of course, more attention given to allow the metaphor to truly flourish, but there  _ was _ something of value here.

Why was that so surprising? Diana was a good writer, wasn’t she? It made sense that even without preparation time, she would be able to write something of acceptable quality, did it not?

Diana was shaken from her musing by her phone buzzing. That reminded her, she should probably inform Hannah and Barbara she would be home shortly, since that was likely one of them messaging.

Or not.

**ShinyAkko** : OMG I’m so sorry I forgot to charge my phone when I went out to Anime Soc but I was able to get it charged there but the only plug was at the front of the room :chariotded: so I couldn’t really sit with it cause it’s MECHA NIGHT so I wasn’t missing that good Gundam shit. :chariotok:

**ShinyAkko** : Oh wait you asked a question WHOOPS LOL.

**ShinyAkko** : I normally rewatch the show if I’m stuck! :chariotcute: If I’m stuck on a particular scene I just watch an ep that has something like that, and that usually helps! :chariotyay:

**LadyBeatrice** : That may not be the worst idea, now you mention it. I’m not sure which particular episode would be best to help with this specific piece, but I suppose I am long overdue a rewatch regardless.

**ShinyAkko** : Yeah! Never a bad reason to watch the greatest anime of all time! :chariotdealwithit:

**ShinyAkko** : Oh btw! I finished ur artwork! :chariotyay: Don’t have it on my phone but I’ll send it when I’m back!

Diana’s heart froze in her chest. The art was _done?_ _Already?_ Diana had been considering cancelling the commission and the story entirely, and Akko had already _finished_ it? It had been four days!

Diana stared at her phone. How to respond. She should show excitement, yes? She had commissioned a piece from her fri—no, acquai— _ friend, dammit! Her friend!— _ and she  _ had _ been excited to see it done. Would it be pointless now, if she abandoned the story?

Well, she couldn’t cancel the commission now. In fact, part of Diana felt guilty at having even considered it. Akko would have already put in her time and her labour to get the piece to whatever stage it was at when Diana cancelled, and deserved to be reimbursed as such. The fact the piece was  _ finished _ only made Diana further determined to pay Akko what her work deserved.

Even if the piece would simply sit unobserved in Diana’s laptop memory as a reminder of the story that she had failed to complete. A story that had hurt her.

**LadyBeatrice** : Thank you very much, Akko! I must say I am incredibly impressed you completed the piece in such a short time. I do hope you did not neglect your studies to do so.

**ShinyAkko** : My profs ain’t payin me 100 quid lol.

**LadyBeatrice** : The experience and skills you gain from your time at university will earn you  _ significantly _ more than that in the long run.

**ShinyAkko** : Nahhh lol animators don’t get paid shit I’m doing this for love.

Diana gazed at her screen in near disbelief. Akko was that resigned to never being paid what her talents deserved?

That wouldn’t do. That would  _ not _ do  _ at all. _

**LadyBeatrice** : I don’t believe that for a moment. Your animation is of a near-professional quality and you are still in your teens. It is clear you put a significant amount of time and effort in to achieve those skills, and it is my full belief that you will be richly rewarded for that.

**ShinyAkko** : Idk about that LMAO I’m nearly failing. :croixshrug:

_ ShinyAkko is typing… _

There was a long pause. Several times, the typing message disappeared, only to start again.

**ShinyAkko** : Sorry, I don’t wanna be self-deprecating. I  _ do _ think I’m pretty good at this whole animation thing, but I basically got told last week by one of my profs that I’m pretty much  _ only _ good at animating in the Shiny Chariot style, so I gotta learn like, the rest of animation lol. It kinda meant a lot that you gave me a big commission after that? Thank you! :chariotcroixhug:

**LadyBeatrice** : I understand. And think nothing of it. Know that no matter your struggles, I do truly believe you are an excellent artist, and that I believe you will be able to overcome your current difficulties.

**ShinyAkko** : Thanks. :chariotsmile:

Diana hesitated. She wished to say more. There were so many things she’d thought of saying to Akko today, questions she’d been meaning to ask her friend. Reassurances she sought.

But Diana was not the one who needed reassured right now, so they could wait.

**LadyBeatrice** : Until recently, I did not know how it felt to have a crisis of confidence in one’s own work. However, for much of today I have found myself beset by significant stress with the process of writing. It has been extremely unpleasant, I would not wish it on anybody, and particularly not with a field you love so dearly as animation. I cannot speak to my own current difficulties, however I  _ know _ you will overcome yours, Akko.

**ShinyAkko** : Ah shit

**ShinyAkko** : I’m actually cryin a little LOL :croixsob:

**ShinyAkko** : OK like no joke my friend is literally teasing me rn cause I’m crying this is all your fault

**LadyBeatrice** : Oh, my apologies. I will endeavour not to cause you such distress in future.

**ShinyAkko** : LMAO ur good!

The doubt gnawed at Diana’s chest again. Was Akko laughing  _ at _ her, or  _ with _ her? Diana had tried to tell a joke there, had it not landed? Or was Akko laughing at the joke? Should she ask?

**ShinyAkko** : Seriously tho, I appreciate it.

**ShinyAkko** : Like, I kinda wish there was something I could do to make up for it. :chariotsob:

**LadyBeatrice** : Do not worry yourself. We need not have a transactional relationship, although I’m sure you would have done the same.

Diana took a deep breath.

**LadyBeatrice** : We are friends, are we not?

_ ShinyAkko is typing…  _

Diana’s hands clenched around her phone. That had been a mistake. Could she delete her own message? Pointless, Akko had already seen it. Perhaps she should simply play it off as a joke. Could she do that?

Shit, it was too late.

**ShinyAkko** : Course we are! :chariotyay: Even if ur fics suck and you think mine suck lol.

**LadyBeatrice** : No accounting for good taste, I suppose.

**ShinyAkko** : Hey I have great taste.

**ShinyAkko** : In friends especially. :chariotcute:

It was moments like these that made Diana wish she could cry.

**ShinyAkko** : Oh wait shit, I just had an idea!

**LadyBeatrice** : An idea, you say?

**ShinyAkko** : Yeah like, an idea for how I can help you out!

**LadyBeatrice** : Consider me intrigued.

**ShinyAkko** : Why don’t we watch Shiny Chariot together!? :chariotyay: :chariotyay: :chariotyay:

**ShinyAkko** : Like, full series rewatch! Start from ep 1, go all the way to the end!

**LadyBeatrice** : Akko, I’m not sure either of us has the time to watch four entire seasons of anime right now.

**ShinyAkko** : Not in one go LOL.

**ShinyAkko** : Although actually I did marathon the whole series when I was like 15 just to see if I could.

**LadyBeatrice** : And could you?

**ShinyAkko** : Fell asleep halfway through season 3 RIP :chariotded:

**ShinyAkko** : But yeah, would you be up for that? We can just watch a couple episodes every now and then.

**LadyBeatrice** : I am tentatively interested, yes. How would we watch them? I have the DVDs, shall we say an episode a day, then discuss in the evenings?

A long pause.  _ ShinyAkko is typing…  _ appeared and disappeared several times. Diana waited with bated breath.

**ShinyAkko** : I was thinking we could watch them together?

**ShinyAkko** : Like, over Discord. I can put the DVD on my laptop and share my screen.

**ShinyAkko** : We don’t have to if you don’t wanna!

**LadyBeatrice** : Oh no, the idea sounds lovely! Yes, I would very much like to watch Shiny Chariot with you.

**ShinyAkko** : Ajdskfjkjkafasdf LET’S GO! REWATCH TIME BABYYY! :chariotyay:

**LadyBeatrice** : I share your excitement! The idea of watching Chariot together sounds rather exciting, I was unaware Discord even had such a function.

**ShinyAkko** : Yeah! I got Nitro so it  _ should _ be pretty good quality. :chariotfingerscrossed:

**ShinyAkko** : When works for you? I’m out rn ofc and I think my friends wanted to hang Saturday, but I’m free any other time! :chariotcute:

**LadyBeatrice** : I will need to use tomorrow evening to make up for the studying I missed in my doomed attempts at writing tonight. However, I believe I will be able to catch up enough to have perhaps an hour or two available on Sunday evening, if that is acceptable to you?

**ShinyAkko** : HELL yeah! Sunday evening it is! :chariotyay: :chariotyay: :chariotyay:

**LadyBeatrice** : Excellent! I will see you on Sunday evening, then.

**LadyBeatrice** : Actually, and forgive me if this is intrusive, but you are on GMT, correct?

**ShinyAkko** : Oh yeah, should’ve said lol. I’m at uni in the UK! :flag_uk:

**LadyBeatrice** : As am I. That should make our arrangement somewhat simpler.

**ShinyAkko** : Yeah! Man back when I first got into the English fandom for Chariot all my online friends were Americans and I was in Japan it was a  _ mess. _ My mom kept wanting to kill me cause of how my sleep pattern kept getting all screwed up lol. :chariotded:

**LadyBeatrice** : Haha! I’m glad our friendship is not having the same effect.

**LadyBeatrice** : Although I would be remiss if I did not remember your admission of neglecting your studies in order to complete my commission. In future, I expect you to spend  _ at least _ two weeks on each piece, so as not to distract from your work!

**ShinyAkko** : EEP ok lol. Will do! :croixsalute:

**ShinyAkko** : I’ll get you the pic later! And see you Sunday :chariotexcite:

**LadyBeatrice** : See you Sunday :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, you didn't think she'd actually recognise her, did you?


	11. Shooting Star

_ Monday _

Akko slumped back onto her chair. Finally. She was done. The art was finished. Akko glanced at the clock at the corner of her screen.

_ 05:46 _

Oops.

Oh God and she had a lecture at ten as well. The chances of her making that were  _ not _ high at this rate, sorry Finnelan.

What the hell was going on? She hadn’t even taken her concerta before she started! She’d  _ planned _ to just sketch out the lineart before bed, maybe do a bit of the colours, and before she knew it it was nearly seven hours later and the whole thing was  _ done. _

It was done.

Akko looked over the piece. It was pretty damn good, if she did say so herself. Of course, she’d have to take a look at it again when she woke up, but the way Chariot’s hand almost dissolved into nothingness? The hazy figure of her mother? It was good shit. Akko had worried about having to figure out some kind of watercolour texture to get that indistinct look, but she’d been able to get a similar effect through her usual method and honestly? It looked pretty great.

It looked pretty great.

Well, maybe she could’ve used this as an opportunity to try out something new. She was supposed to be doing that, right? Ursula had specifically told her she needed to. But she didn’t feel right experimenting when she was doing a £100 commission for her friend. And besides, Beatrice had asked her for the Shiny Chariot style, right? So it made sense to stick to her usual approach.

But then, Shiny Chariot  _ did _ do some weird creative animation stuff sometimes. Akko had tried some of them, but she’d never had a go at the watercolour dream sequence from Season 3 Episode 7. Was that what Ursula had meant when she’d said Hokuto Shichisei had mastered other art styles too?

Akko looked back at the screen. Nah, screw it, the art was good. She could practice digital watercolours some time she wasn’t being paid enough to buy a fifth of a laptop.

Or, a tenth, in Akko’s case. She’d already planned out that she was gonna set £50 aside into a laptop fund, then use the rest as spending money. Then at the end of each week, she was gonna have a look at her account, how much she’d spent, and see if there was any left over to put into the laptop fund.

Well, that was the  _ plan _ anyway. Akko’s plans usually didn’t last longer than the thought process required to make them, but she felt pretty confident about this one! And, if all else failed, at least she knew the first thing she was gonna do when the money came in was put fifty into a separate account.

And as for the second thing? There was a  _ really _ nice looking Japanese place in town, and Akko had been  _ dying _ for some good tonkatsu.

* * *

_ Tuesday _

Akko stared at the art. It stared back at her. Should she send it? It was done, right? She’d  _ meant _ to send it as soon as she woke up yesterday, but she’d been in such an exhausted haze trying to make it to her lectures that it completely slipped her mind.

So why not send it today? Honestly, Akko was kinda worried that if she just sent it now, Beatrice was gonna think she’d not put enough effort in. Or tell her off for doing the commission instead of her homework. Which, admittedly,  _ was _ a problem, if the rapidly approaching deadline on this essay for Visual Narrative was anything to go by.

Who the hell put a deadline at midnight on a Tuesday anyway!?

* * *

_ Wednesday _

Maybe Akko should just go through the progress files and send Beatrice one of those? Oh wait, Akko hadn’t even saved her progress at any point, she’d just rattled the whole thing out in one go. She hadn’t even stopped to eat or drink, and her body was  _ still _ recovering from being up at nearly six.

She applied a couple more filters, then shook her head and removed them. The piece was fine, she’d got it right the first time. No need to tinker any further. All she had to do was wait for a good time to send it.

And stare at her phone.

They hadn’t really chatted since Sunday.

A message or two here or there, but it seemed Beatrice hadn’t been kidding about being busy most of the time. What was she studying that kept her that busy? Couldn’t be English, not when her writing was that boring. Or maybe that’s what they taught you in English class, how to suck all the joy out of literature so no one would enjoy it ever again.

But besides that, English wouldn’t keep you as busy as Beatrice seemed to be. Lotte did English Literature, and she worked so damn hard at it that she even went to Creative Writing Soc instead of joining Akko at Anime Soc, but she  _ still  _ had plenty of free time, so it couldn’t be that. Probably something super time-intensive, like Maths or Chemistry or Medicine or something.

Maybe Akko should ask her what her degree was in? That would be a nice conversation starter, wouldn’t it? Not too invasive, right? Akko had already shared that she was studying animation.

Why was it so hard to just talk to her friend?

* * *

_ Thursday _

Goddammit Amanda! Why did they  _ always _ end up in the fountain or the lake or some other crap like that! At this rate they were gonna end up in the sea somehow… 

But that didn’t matter! Akko’s phone had a waterproof, shockproof,  _ Akko-proof _ case courtesy of her parents, so she’d still been able to reply to Beatrice’s message once she got out of the fountain. And they’d made  _ plans! _ Great plans! They were gonna watch Shiny Chariot! Together! Watching Shiny Chariot with friends was about the most fun you could have, but watching it with a friend who loved it,  _ and _ being able to watch more than  _ one bloody episode _ like at Anime Soc!? The dream.

And! More to the point! Beatrice had used a smiley face! After all of Akko’s constant emoji spamming, seeing even a single “:)” from Beatrice had made Akko giggle like a kid. And she’d even cracked a couple of jokes, too! Part of Akko wanted to tell Beatrice that her jokes were goddamn hilarious and to  _ please _ crack more, but part of what made them so good was the rareness. Like finding a Shiny Pokemon. Akko just had to appreciate them when they arrived.

She couldn’t  _ wait _ for Sunday.

* * *

_ Friday _

Who cares, Akko was watching Shiny Chariot with her friend in two days!  _ And _ Beatrice had absolutely loved the art _ and _ paid her for it immediately! She was even going out with the usual crew—minus Sucy—to the gay bar in town tomorrow night! Everything was coming up Akko!

* * *

_ Saturday _

“Yeah!” Akko bobbed her head along with the music, probably out of time but whatever, she was having a blast! She’d never actually been to a club before, gay or otherwise. Even if Amanda insisted the Shooting Star was just a “chill kinda queer-friendly bar” and not a  _ real _ gay club like she’d been hoping to take them all to, but apparently those didn’t exist in Blytonbury.

But the closest Akko had got to this kind of experience before was a particularly ill-fated school disco, forever infamous for the moment where Ryosuke threw up in the punch bowl. And, for Akko at least, the fact that she’d been trying to make up her mind between asking out sweet, pretty Yoko, and charming, debonair Yuuko, only to see them kissing  _ each other _ in the middle of the dance floor.

Sometimes being bi  _ really _ sucked.

But tonight was  _ not _ one of those times! Not when the club was covered in rainbow flags and pretty girls who were  _ probably _ not gonna look at Akko like she was some kind of weird bug for hitting on them! Not that she’d  _ done _ that yet but, y’know, the possibility existed! That girl over there looked kinda cute actually, maybe she could go over and—

She was already kissing Amanda.

Honestly, Akko wasn’t even jealous, more impressed than anything else. That was, what, the third girl Amanda had kissed since they’d arrived about an hour ago? Akko hoped for her sake that those girls hadn’t seen the other kisses, but then, would they care? Amanda clearly had no issues with kissing multiple different girls for fun, were the others all the same?

Would that be what would happen if Akko tried to kiss one of them? Would it just be a nice moment, then they’d both go off and try and kiss other people? Was that the point?

Was that what Akko wanted?

Not really. But kinda? Maybe it’d be fun. Amanda looked like she was having a good time, right? Or would Akko rather a kind of deeper connection? Was that an  _ option _ at the Shooting Star? Or at clubs in general? Yoko and Yuuko had ended up dating after their little kiss but then they broke up within a couple of weeks. Had they just been doing what Amanda was doing now, but in slow motion?

Honestly, it all felt a bit like trying to guess what her favourite food would be at a restaurant she’d never eaten at, with a cuisine she’d never tried. Maybe kissing wouldn’t do anything for Akko at all. Sure she’d imagined it enough but she’d never actually  _ kissed _ anyone. Not really for lack of trying, but also had she ever really tried that hard?

Whatever. Time for another drink.

They didn’t do sake, obviously, but some of those sweet cocktails were really nice! Akko had tried three different ones now, and all of them were great. Ooo that cherry one looked like it’d be  _ delicious, _ yes please!

…So maybe this wasn’t the  _ most  _ sensible investment of her commission money, but hey, Beatrice would appreciate that she was spending it at a gay club right? Akko giggled out loud at the idea of Beatrice dancing around the floor at the Shooting Star. Not that she had any idea of what Beatrice actually looked like aside from being blonde and around Akko’s age, but the  _ concept _ was downright hilarious.

With another fiver parted with and a cherry cocktail in her hand, Akko leaned against the wall towards the edge of the dancefloor, tapping her foot to the rhythm. Most of the rest of their group was in the more relaxed bar area out front, but Akko didn’t really feel like joining them just yet. As soon as she was done with this cocktail, it was back to the dancefloor for her!

But until then… 

Akko fished out her phone. No messages from Beatrice, but she  _ had _ said she was planning to use Friday and Saturday evening to catch up from the studying she’d missed on Thursday. It honestly made Akko feel a little guilty about how behind she was on her 3D Animation homework. She  _ had _ kept up with all of Ursula’s assignments for Computer Animation, even the extra ones to help her catch up! Unfortunately, she had four  _ other _ courses to work on too, and those had been going… 

Anyway.

**ShinyAkko** : Have you ever been to a gay club? I’m at one rn and it’s GREAT there’s so many cute girls and they’re all gayyyyyyyyy. :chariotpride:

**ShinyAkko** : Probably.

**ShinyAkko** : My friend keeps kissing them anyway so like, I guess that’s a good hint LOL :croixsnicker:

Akko downed the rest of her cocktail. Seriously, that was  _ delicious. _ Why was tasty stuff always so expensive? Maybe Akko should learn how to make her own cocktails! She could get a fancy bartender outfit to go along with it and everything, pour drinks out for pretty blonde ladies while chatting tall tales about life and anime.

Akko snickered at her own jokes again. Why wasn’t she talking to anyone she was  _ hilarious _ when she was tipsy.

Akko stepped her way back to the dancefloor, dropping a few moves while she was at it. Now just to find someone to dance  _ with. _

She ended up in front of Amanda.

Not  _ quite _ what she meant but, hey, at least there’d be no pressure not to mess up here! And, wow, Amanda was a  _ really _ good dancer. Akko almost felt like she should just stop her own shoddy moves and appreciate, Amanda was  _ seriously _ impressive. Perfectly in time with the music, her whole body moving in sync. Akko didn’t really know much about what made dancing good or not, but it seemed like Amanda might have been talking herself down when she said she “danced a bit.”

“How’d you get this good at dancing?” Akko called over the din.

“It’s kinda just my thing.” Amanda shrugged, fitting it seamlessly into her movements. “Used to compete in Rhythmic Gymnastics back in the States, basically just acrobatic dancing really.”

Akko nodded in understanding as Amanda leaned in to mutter into her ear. “Anyway, more importantly,” she flicked her head towards the corner, “girl over there’s giving you eyes.”

Akko turned, craning her neck to see where Amanda was gesturing to. Amanda grabbed her head. “Look without looking!” Amanda hissed. “Be classy about it. You gotta like, notice her but not  _ too _ much, get it?”

Akko didn’t get it, but she kept her head still and swivelled her eyes in the direction Amanda had indicated. Sure enough, there  _ was _ a girl there who was looking at Akko. She was pretty too! Well, all girls were pretty, but still! This girl was pretty! And she was looking at Akko!

Amanda led their dance subtly towards that direction, then naturally split off to a different dance partner, mouthing “You’re welcome!” as Akko was left on her own in front of the pretty girl.

Oh wow she was actually  _ really _ pretty up close. Soft face, bright smile, platinum blonde hair… Not that Akko had a  _ specific _ type, but it was nice and also she didn’t really see blondes much in Japan so there was  _ that _ aspect to it too and—

“Hey,” the blonde girl said, and even her voice was kinda cute. Sure, maybe it was the four drinks and the music and the experience of a pretty girl actually being maybe kinda interested in talking to Akko for reasons related to being a pretty girl but, screw it, her voice sounded cute.

“Hey,” Akko said back with a grin. “Wanna dance?”

“Sure.” The girl extended a hand and took one of Akko’s and  _ wow _ that was nice. Akko tried to move along with her, even though her rhythm wasn’t great, but the girl didn’t seem to mind, a light smile on her face as they moved together. Sort of.

This was nice. It was good! A pretty girl was holding her hand and dancing with her and Akko… wanted more? Should she? Was that OK? She could always apologise if it wasn’t, right?

Akko brought her hand to the blonde girl’s waist, who let herself be pulled closer, leaning her head on Akko’s shoulder as they swayed a bit. Probably not the most appropriate way to dance to thumping EDM but hey, Akko was enjoying it, and her dance partner was enjoying it. She hoped. Should she ask?

Akko leaned her head down to ask her if this was good.

The girl tilted her face towards Akko’s, shutting her eyes and drifting closer.

Akko froze.

The girl’s lips awkwardly planted themselves somewhere around Akko’s cheek, or maybe the edge of her lips. She leaned back, looking at Akko with confusion.

“I’m sorry,” Akko blurted out. “I’m so sorry.” She let the girl go and stepped away.

The girl tried to reach for her, but Akko just sped up, vision blurring and head spinning as she almost ran towards the door that led back into the bar area, where the rest of her friends were.

She’d fucking blown it.

Amanda was gonna be so disappointed in her.

* * *

Akko slumped onto one of the couches around the table that their group had taken up residence at. Lotte, Jasminka and Constanze had all given her concerned looks, but Akko had just shrugged them off. She knew this wasn’t like her. She knew they could tell something had gone wrong.

She just didn’t really wanna talk about it.

Akko’s phone buzzed.

**LadyBeatrice** : I can’t say I’ve ever had any particular inclination to attend any kind of club myself, gay or otherwise.

**LadyBeatrice** : Although I am glad to hear you are enjoying yourself.

**ShinyAkko** : I’m not.

**ShinyAkko** : Fuck idk.

**ShinyAkko** : A girl tried to kiss me and I just completely fucking froze up.

**ShinyAkko** : Idk WHY like, she was pretty, we were having a good time dancing. Hell I’m thinking about it now and the idea of kissing her seems pretty great.

**ShinyAkko** : But I just like, ran away JKLSJFKALJDFKA.

**ShinyAkko** : The fuck is wrong with me.

**ShinyAkko** : Am I like, homophobic or some shit???

**ShinyAkko** : I’m sorry, you didn’t need to hear all this crap I’m just.

**ShinyAkko** : Idk I don’t wanna tell my friends.

**LadyBeatrice** : Sorry, I need a moment to catch up on your messages.

**LadyBeatrice** : Alright.

**LadyBeatrice** : I would like to preface this by informing you that I have precisely zero experience in the area of kissing, or romance in general, outside of fanfiction, of course. Take those credentials for what you will.

**LadyBeatrice** : Akko, you simply found yourself overwhelmed. I’m sure you will not be the first, nor the last person to respond in such a manner to such a situation. And that response hardly makes you “homophobic,” the very idea is preposterous.

**ShinyAkko** : I think I disappointed my friend.

**ShinyAkko** : She’s the one I was talking about earlier. She pointed out this girl was looking at me and got me to go dance with her and then I fucked it up.

**LadyBeatrice** : Akko, you will  _ not _ have disappointed your friend by becoming overwhelmed in that situation. And if you have, then she is a very poor friend indeed.

A hand tapped on Akko’s shoulder.

Akko glanced up to see Amanda sitting on the arm of her couch, looking down at her with concern. “You OK? Turned round for like two minutes and you were gone. Heather said you ran off?”

Akko sank into her seat, not meeting Amanda’s eyes. “She tried to kiss me and I freaked out. Sorry.”

Amanda looked confused. “What you got to be sorry about? She said she enjoyed dancing with you, and told me to pass on that she’s sorry for being too forward.”

Akko looked up. “Why is  _ she _ sorry?”

“Why are  _ you _ sorry?” Amanda responded. “Look, it seems like the two of you just had a bit of a misunderstanding. If you want, I can go reintroduce you, or I can go tell her that you’re not upset with her and you just panicked a bit. Your call.”

Akko shook her head. “Just tell her I’m sorry, thanks. Oh, and tell her I enjoyed the dance!”

Amanda clapped her on the shoulder again. “Will do.” Amanda stood, leaving back towards the club room. Akko turned her gaze back to her phone, where two unread messages greeted her.

**LadyBeatrice** : …Would it help if I told a joke?

**LadyBeatrice** : To lighten the mood.

**ShinyAkko** : Sure lol.

**ShinyAkko** : And ty, that does help.

**LadyBeatrice** : Surely you have read enough fanfiction involving the topic of “gay panic” not to judge yourself too harshly for falling prey to the same affliction?

**ShinyAkko** : LMFAO :chariotlol: :chariotlol: :chariotlol:

**ShinyAkko** : Ur jokes are so fuckin funny pls never change.

**LadyBeatrice** : Thank you, I’m glad they helped.

**ShinyAkko** : They did! :chariothug:

Akko glanced up, and noticed Lotte’s concerned gaze turning quickly away. Was Akko that much of a mess? No she wasn’t! She was doing better already, and she was gonna chat to her friends now. “Hey, Lotte, what’s up?” Akko asked, putting on a grin.

Lotte looked back at her, that same concerned look to her face. Akko’s grin faltered somewhat, and Lotte’s face shifted to a more compassionate look. “I just wanted to say that… I understand,” Lotte said, softly. “Romance is scary. We see so much of it, in fiction or other things,” she gave Akko a knowing look, “but the real thing is… never quite like that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Akko sighed, letting her grin fall away. “I dunno if that was even  _ romance, _ I think we just kinda wanted to kiss each other. It just… happened really fast.”

Lotte nodded in understanding. “I get that. It can be scary when things start happening all at once.” She reached out a hand, rubbing Akko’s arm soothingly. “I don’t think there’s any shame in being afraid, Akko.”

Akko nodded, shooting Lotte a smile. “Thanks, Lotte. I guess I was kinda panicking thinking about like, what if I screw up like this next time? Or with someone I really like? But then I thought, since when do  _ I _ make the same mistake twice?” Akko tilted her head into a lopsided grin.

Lotte chuckled, echoed by Jasminka. Even Constanze looked like she was laughing at her a bit.

“Hey, I was being serious!” Akko protested. “I learn from my mistakes!”

“Of course you do, Akko,” Lotte siad, failing to hide her laughter.

“I hate you guys!” Akko wailed.

* * *

_ Sunday _

**ShinyAkko** : Hey, I know it’s past midnight and you’re asleep and all and sorry I didn’t get back to you but just.

**ShinyAkko** : My friends are great. :chariotheart:

**ShinyAkko** : And that includes you. Thanks for earlier, I do really appreciate it.

**ShinyAkko** : See you tomorrow for Chariot! :chariotyay:

**ShinyAkko** : Or today I guess lmao. :chariotkek:

**ShinyAkko** : Sleep well, Beatrice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :\? :)?


	12. Shiny Chariot Best Girl

**_ShinyAkko_ ** _is sharing their screen!_

 **ShinyAkko** : Can you see? :chariotexcited:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Yes. I must say it’s rather amusing, being able to see myself type this very message.

 **ShinyAkko** : Oh yeah I’ll jump to the DVD in a sec lol.

 **ShinyAkko** : There we go!

 **LadyBeatrice** : I suppose we may reconvene our conversation after the episode is completed, then. I shall speak to you shortly, Akko.

 **ShinyAkko** : No lol we can just use our phones. :croixsnicker:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Oh.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Yes that would be the logical thing to do, wouldn’t it.

 **LadyBeatrice** : I am now using my phone. :mobile_phone:

 **ShinyAkko** : lskajfkljsadfkldasjf :chariotlmfao:

 **ShinyAkko** : Alright, let’s go!

 **ShinyAkko** : Ur not a real fan if ur not saying the line along with it.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Of course. Although I worry my Japanese pronunciation may not be quite up to scratch. I did practice it quite extensively when I was younger, but I never had a native speaker to correct my mistakes.

_ShinyAkko is typing…_

**ShinyAkko** : I’m sure ur better than the girl at my AnimeSoc who called me “Akko-sempai” :chariotded:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Oh dear.

 **ShinyAkko** : Yeah it was a big oof. She’s alright now so it’s not too bad lol. :chariotyay:

 **ShinyAkko** : Love this OP tho.

 **ShinyAkko** : I always wanted to learn violin just so I could play it but moneyyy. :chariotsob:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Ah, that’s unfortunate. I never really took to music, unfortunately. I enjoy listening to it, certainly, but never had the aptitude for playing.

 **ShinyAkko** : Rip. You listen to mostly classical, right? :chariotcurious:

 **LadyBeatrice** : My favourite composers are primarily of the Romantic Era, actually. Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, and Chopin are perhaps typical preferences to have, but I believe that is for good reason, their work is simply magnificent. I find the depth of emotion portrayed in their compositions to be wonderfully compelling.

 **ShinyAkko** : Tbh I’ve never really listened to much classical, mostly Anime OST and Jpop ~~and maybe some vocaloid lol.~~ :chariotyay: Would you recommend those three guys to start?

 **LadyBeatrice** : Certainly! If you wish for particular pieces to “dip your toes,” as it were, I would recommend Beethoven’s _Moonlight Sonata,_ as well as Act 2 No. 10 of Tchaikovsky’s _Swan Lake,_ and Chopin’s _Nocturne No. 2 in Eb._ If you enjoy those, I can offer you further recommendations, perhaps Rachmaninoff or Puccini.

 **ShinyAkko** : I’ll check them all out! Always cool to find more music even if I can’t play it. :chariotded: Tbh, I probably would’ve sucked at violin anyway, but my folks didn’t have much to spare since they were saving up to send me to uni. :chariotgrateful:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Ah yes, foreign students in the UK have to pay higher fees, do they not?

 **ShinyAkko** : Yeah. :chariotsob: Although fees in Japan are pretty crazy for most of the unis too so it’s not all that different tbh.

 **ShinyAkko** : But yeah that’s part of why I’m gonna do great! Can’t let my folks down after all they’ve done to get me here! :chariotdetermined:

 **ShinyAkko** : Oh lol I think we chatted over the first two mins, I can rewind? :chariotsorry:

 **LadyBeatrice** : No need, I am fully capable of watching Shiny Chariot while conversing with you on another topic.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Although I must say, I had almost forgotten how cute Chariot is in the first season! Her eagerness and optimism are so wonderfully refreshing.

 **ShinyAkko** : I FUCKIN KNOW RIGHT? What a good bean. :chariotcute:

 **LadyBeatrice** : A… bean?

 **ShinyAkko** : LOOK AT HER

 **ShinyAkko** : :chariotcute: :chariotyay: :chariotheart: :chariotbean: :chariotsmile:

 **ShinyAkko** : SHE IS

 **ShinyAkko** : A BEAN

 **ShinyAkko** : AND I WILL LOVE AND PROTECT HER WITH MY VERY LIFE

 **LadyBeatrice** : I understand. Chariot is a good bean. A cute bean.

 **ShinyAkko** : THE BEST BEAN!

 **LadyBeatrice** : The very best, indeed!

 **LadyBeatrice** : I am aware this admission may cause a termination of our friendship, but Croix was always my favourite character. Her drive to be the greatest witch through innovative study, her frustration at Chariot’s constant “unearned” successes, then the way she comes to understand and appreciate Chariot’s approach and vibrancy over time. I always found those aspects of her character remarkably compelling.

 **ShinyAkko** : Sorry friendship over ur dead to me :F:

 **ShinyAkko** : Nah for real tho, that’s a fair opinion, even if it’s wrong. :chariotlol:

 **ShinyAkko** : Croix _is_ pretty good tho. Just look at this smug face, how could you not love her.

 **ShinyAkko** : :croixsmug:

 **ShinyAkko** : She knows she’s better than u.

 **LadyBeatrice** : That’s because she is.

 **ShinyAkko** : Ur RIGHT and you SHOULD SAY IT.

 **ShinyAkko** : Honestly I hated her at first cause she kept calling out Chariot but then she really grew on me over the series. :croixhappy:

 **ShinyAkko** : Let you in on a secret? I barely even shipped them before I went online. :croixded:

 **LadyBeatrice** : _HOW!?_

 **ShinyAkko** : Hey I was like 9 when the series ended! The subtext just went straight over my head! :chariotsorry:

 **LadyBeatrice** : It is _text._

 **ShinyAkko** : Oh no ur 100% right it’s _so_ obvious lmao I was just a dumb kid. These witches be gay and I have learned my lesson.

 **ShinyAkko** : Although ngl lil babey Akko just wanted Chariot all to herself LOL.

 **LadyBeatrice** : HAHA! Do not tell me that you _actually_ engaged in the sacriligeous act of reading Chariot/Reader fics?

 **ShinyAkko** : … 

**LadyBeatrice** : Or perhaps even _writing_ such blasphemies?

 **ShinyAkko** : ok LISTEN

 **ShinyAkko** : it was A LONG TIME AGO

 **ShinyAkko** : I was FOOLISH and DID NOT KNOW BETTER

 **ShinyAkko** : I have ATONED FOR MY SINS AT THE ALTAR OF CUTE CHAROIX FLUFF

 **ShinyAkko** : Please, Your Honour, I beg you, show leniency! I’m not the girl who committed that crime anymore!

 **ShinyAkko** : I did my time, and emerged a changed woman!

 **LadyBeatrice** : Hmmmm.

 **LadyBeatrice** : No. Death penalty for you.

 **LadyBeatrice** : You thirsty hoe.

 **ShinyAkko** : JHDSKJFASKLFJASDFKLADSJFKLADSJFADKLFADSJFKLDJFAF

 **ShinyAkko** : SDKFJAKSJFAF

 **ShinyAkko** : IKAHKFLASKFHADSIFHDSAIFUDSAFIDSAFADIOFU2349023UIOIKWJFKDKASF

 **ShinyAkko** : ASJFKSAFKASDFAKFWHATSHFEHFCUJK

 **ShinyAkko** : OMG I JUST MISSED NEARLY THE WHOLE ENDING CAUSE I WAS LAUGHING SO FUCKIN HARD :chariotkek: :chariotded: :chariotlmao:

 **ShinyAkko** : I WOULD NEVER HAVE THOUGHT

 **ShinyAkko** : IN A MILLION FUCKIN YEARS

 **ShinyAkko** : OH MY GOD UR LITERALLY THE FUNNIEST PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD

 **LadyBeatrice** : :croixsmug:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Oh drat, it doesn’t work for me.

 **ShinyAkko** : JFKJSFKAFJLKFJ;LAFJSFFAQOIJI

 **ShinyAkko** : Oh yeah lol u need Nitro and to be on a server where they exist.

 **ShinyAkko** : OH WAIT SHIT I HAVE AN IDEA

 **ShinyAkko** : Alright one sec.

**_LadyBeatrice_ ** _received an invite to_ **_Shiny Chariot Best Girl Fanclub_ **

**ShinyAkko** : OK hi!

 **ShinyAkko** : I just use this server to dump my emojis onto, but you can use them here now! :chariotyay:

 **LadyBeatrice** : :chariotyay:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Oh my this is quite the power you have bestowed upon me.

 **LadyBeatrice** : :croixsmug:

 **LadyBeatrice** : I suppose I can find it within my heart to commute your sentence, in light of recent evidence of your good behaviour.

 **LadyBeatrice** : :chariotthinking:

 **ShinyAkko** : :chariotyay:

 **LadyBeatrice** : However, let it never be forgotten that regardless of whatever fanfiction sins I may have committed, _you_ are the one who wrote Chariot/Reader.

 **ShinyAkko** : ALLEGEDLY.

 **LadyBeatrice** : :croixsmug:

 **ShinyAkko** : _Anyway_ wanna move the call to here? I’ll set up ep 2 in a sec.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Certainly.

 **_ShinyAkko_ ** _is sharing their screen!_

 **ShinyAkko** : Ep 2 timeeeee. :chariotyay:

 **ShinyAkko** : Gonna start booing at Croix’s introduction just to piss u off :chariotsnicker:

 **LadyBeatrice** : :croixsmug:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Do not disparage the superior character in such a manner.

 **ShinyAkko** : You come to my server

 **ShinyAkko** : my HOUSE

 **ShinyAkko** : IT SAYS SHINY CHARIOT BEST GIRL RIGHT THERE ON THE DOOR

 **ShinyAkko** : For shame. :chariotsigh:

 **LadyBeatrice** : :croixsmug: :croixsmug: :croixsmug:

 **ShinyAkko** : Oh wait here she comes now!

 **ShinyAkko** : Yeah you tell her Chariot! :chariotbirdflip:

 **LadyBeatrice** : :chariotbirdflip:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Oh. It would appear I cannot use the animated emojis. Unfortunate.

 **ShinyAkko** : I win again! And a win for me is a win for Chariot! Best girl never loses! :chariotyay:

 **LadyBeatrice** : It is amusing how ardently you defend her, given that you’re well aware I love her almost as dearly as you do.

 **ShinyAkko** : Oh yeah it’s just a game lol. Some people get reeeally into the Best Girl shit and it’s lowkey kinda weird. :chariotshock:

 **ShinyAkko** : Especially since they’re all wrong and Chariot best girl anyway. :chariotyay:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Ah, my thanks for your clarification. :chariotsmile:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Actually.

_LadyBeatrice is typing…_

**LadyBeatrice** : Would you mind terribly if I asked for some clarification on some other aspects of our conversations? I’m sorry if this is rude or overly formal.

 **ShinyAkko** : Huh? Nah go ahead.

 **LadyBeatrice** : When you tell jokes about me, are you laughing at me or laughing with me? I recognise this question may seem almost infantile, but I confess that it has been causing me consternation since the beginning of our friendship. I understand that we had something of a difficult start to our relationship, and I worry that your joking may be some kind of residual bitterness towards me.

 **LadyBeatrice** : I’m sorry, that was extremely poorly phrased. I had no intention to come across as accusatory as I did.

 **ShinyAkko** : No you’re good!

_ShinyAkko is typing…_

**ShinyAkko** : It’s… kinda both? Yeah, when you point it out now, a couple of the jokes I made to you were kinda mean. I joke a lot with my friends and sometimes we kinda shittalk each other but it’s always meant in a jokey way?

 **ShinyAkko** : But some of my jokes to you weren’t like that.

 **ShinyAkko** : I’m sorry. I’ll try and do better, OK?

 **LadyBeatrice** : It’s quite alright, thank you very much for the explanation and the apology.

 **LadyBeatrice** : I do think the majority of your jokes are very funny! You are a very humorous person Akko. I’m almost envious.

 **ShinyAkko** : wtf are you talkin about that “thirsty hoe” joke earlier was the funniest shit ever. :chariotlmfao:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Akko, I came up with that joke three days ago and have been agonising over whether or not to say it to you ever since.

 **ShinyAkko** : THAT JUST MAKES IT FUNNIER :croixkek:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Hardly. I have studied humour quite extensively, and “explaining the joke” is always spoken of as the cardinal sin within comedy.

 **ShinyAkko** : You studied comedy? :chariotcurious:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Yes. I wished to be funny. It’s a little embarrassing to admit, but I wished to be like Chariot, and make people laugh as much as I could. But nobody found my jokes funny, so I studied comedy.

 **LadyBeatrice** : I do believe that I have developed a reasonable way with humour, but I often wish I had a quick wit such as yours.

 **ShinyAkko** : Idk I just say whatever shit comes into my head and hope for the best. :chariotshrug:

 **ShinyAkko** : But also like, your jokes _are_ pretty funny? Like they’re dry and deadpan or whatever but that’s just your different style. :croixkek:

 **ShinyAkko** : But yeah, back to the point, I can try not to make jokes about you in future?

 **LadyBeatrice** : I think I would like that. Perhaps some light teasing, as friends do?

 **ShinyAkko** : Like calling you a thirsty hoe? :croixkek:

 **ShinyAkko** : See, it’s not as funny when I say it.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Haha! Yes, perhaps along those lines.

 **ShinyAkko** : Sure thing! :chariotsalute:

 **ShinyAkko** : And feel free to tell me if I go too far, OK? Promise I won’t be mad :chariotcute:

 **LadyBeatrice** : I will! Thank you very much.

 **ShinyAkko** : You’re welcome. :chariotgrin:

 **ShinyAkko** : OH SHIT LOOK AT THAT GLARE

 **ShinyAkko** : r i v a l s

 **ShinyAkko** : They’re so gay.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Indeed. So gay.

 **ShinyAkko** : Like there is no heterosexual explanation for what is occurring on the screen rn.

 **LadyBeatrice** : They are flirting, Akko.

 **ShinyAkko** : ur SO right.

 **ShinyAkko** : Why can’t I have a witch gf who glares at me and tells me I’m an embarrassment to witchcraft ~~and then makes out with me on a broom~~ :croixsmug:

 **LadyBeatrice** : I already called you a thirsty hoe once, do not force me to do so again.

 **LadyBeatrice** : :croixjudging:

 **ShinyAkko** : U tellin me you don’t want a witch gf who’s a little bundle of joy with a believing heart? :chariotbean:

 **LadyBeatrice** : We have already established that _you_ are the one who wishes to have a relationship with Chariot.

 **ShinyAkko** : Are you telling me you _don’t?_

 **LadyBeatrice** : I can neither confirm nor deny these vicious allegations.

 **ShinyAkko** : LMAO :chariotlol:

 **ShinyAkko** : And u think ur not funny SMH

 **ShinyAkko** : Too bad they got each other tho… :pensive:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Yes, a true tragedy for sapphics everywhere.

 **ShinyAkko** : Pourin one out for all the poor gays with no witch gf. :chariotsalute:

 **LadyBeatrice** : I shall write a suitably tragic eulogy.

 **ShinyAkko** : Omg that’s ur next fic, all the gays at school writing sad poetry cause they can’t date Chariot or Croix. :chariotlmao:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Hahaha! Perhaps a little too whimsical for my style, but it would be very amusing, I agree.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Actually, if you don’t mind waiting a moment before putting on the next episode.

 **_LadyBeatrice_ ** _uploaded an attachment!_

 **LadyBeatrice** : What do you think of this excerpt? I wrote it in fifteen minutes as part of a writing challenge at my university’s Creative Writing Society. I assumed the circumstances of writing in such a manner would result in work of a poor quality, but I’m surprisingly fond of the result. I believe it could serve as the beginning of my next piece?

 **ShinyAkko** : Tbh?

 **ShinyAkko** : I think it’s pretty good on its own.

 **ShinyAkko** : Like actually, I think you could just type that up rn and throw it on AO3 and it’d be fine.

 **ShinyAkko** : It’d probably be my favourite fic of yours LOL. :chariotsnicker:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Ha.

 **ShinyAkko** : Not too far?

 **LadyBeatrice** : No, it’s quite alright.

 **LadyBeatrice** : But do you really think so? It feels… incomplete.

 **ShinyAkko** : It ends pretty nicely? It’s kinda weird that they don’t even have a picnic but it’s still really cute!

 **ShinyAkko** : Even if you don’t even have a Shiny Arc in it. :chariotraspberry:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Perhaps next time.

 **ShinyAkko** : :chariotsob:

 **ShinyAkko** : :shinyarc:

 **LadyBeatrice** : You may start the next episode, by the way, since you have now read the excerpt.

 **ShinyAkko** : Oh sure. Last one for you, right? Or do you have more time?

 **LadyBeatrice** : Ah yes, I shall be needing to retire for the night after this episode concludes, apologies.

 **ShinyAkko** : Np! 3 eps is good, and we can watch more some other time, right?

 **LadyBeatrice** : Certainly! Tonight has been extremely enjoyable.

 **ShinyAkko** : Yeah! :chariotcute:

 **ShinyAkko** : I still think u should just upload that thing btw. Call it a drabble or something, people love that.

 **LadyBeatrice** : I will think about it. Truthfully, I was unsure on how to develop the picnic, although I might give some thought to giving more detail and discussion on Croix’s thoughts and the flame metaphor.

 **ShinyAkko** : :chariotthumbsup:

 **ShinyAkko** : I think it’s fine, personally! But u do u. Gives you something nice to throw on AO3 while you’re working on your other thing you were talking about the other day, right?

 **LadyBeatrice** : If I might admit something? 

_LadyBeatrice is typing…_

**LadyBeatrice** : I am struggling quite heavily with writing that piece. When I spoke to you on Thursday about writer’s block, it was that particular story which I was grappling with. I found myself ruminating on our conversation from a week ago, and came to the realisation that your criticisms had a lot more value than I was initially willing to give them.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Please don’t gloat.

 **ShinyAkko** : I won’t! :chariotzip:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Thank you.

 **LadyBeatrice** : But yes, at present I feel… disillusioned with my usual writing. I believe I have been writing Chariot out of character for so long that it has warped my perception of who she is as a character. This rewatch and our conversation have only further cemented this belief in my mind. You’re right, Chariot is a cute bean. And my portrayal of her could not have been further from her true nature.

 **LadyBeatrice** : I’m quite unsure of how to proceed from here.

 **LadyBeatrice** : And I’m sorry, because that means the piece you worked so hard on won’t be going to any good use.

 **ShinyAkko** : OK firstly, did you like the art?

 **LadyBeatrice** : Of course!

 **ShinyAkko** : Then idc about you putting it in a fic or whatever, as long as you liked it. :chariotcute:

 **ShinyAkko** : And as for the other stuff, you could just, idk, try writing Chariot as the bean she is?

 **ShinyAkko** : :chariotbean:

 **ShinyAkko** : Let her inspire you. Feel yourself become one with the bean energy.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Lol!

 **LadyBeatrice** : Frankly, I’m unsure if I _can_ just write Chariot as a “bean.” I don’t think I’ve ever even tried it.

 **ShinyAkko** : Then try it! Just treat it as practice! I have so many crappy animations or drawings from when I was learning, no one ever saw those except my parents lol. You don’t have to show your Chariot Is A Bean fics to anyone if you don’t wanna! :chariotsalute:

 **LadyBeatrice** : I may do just that. Thank you, Akko, your help has been invaluable.

 **ShinyAkko** : Np! Least I could do after you were so nice about my art. :chariotcute:

 **LadyBeatrice** : I have already told you I do not wish to have a transactional relationship with you, Akko.

 **ShinyAkko** : Nah, this is just friends helping each other out. Doesn’t have to match up exactly, y’know? Honestly half of my friends support me _way_ more than I support them and it actually feels pretty nice being able to give back for once. :chariotheart:

 **LadyBeatrice** : I suppose that makes sense. Although I highly doubt that you do not support your friends, your enthusiasm is sure to brighten the day of all those who consider you a friend.

_LadyBeatrice is typing…_

_LadyBeatrice is typing…_

**LadyBeatrice** : I know it does mine.

 **ShinyAkko** : :chariotsob:

 **ShinyAkko** : :croixsob:

 **ShinyAkko** : :chariotheart:

 **ShinyAkko** : How are you this sweet wtf. Who gave you the right. This is emotional assault I’m calling the police.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Strange, considering the sheer number of times I saw the acronym “ACAB” on my brief venture onto your Twitter feed.

 **ShinyAkko** : LMAO

 **ShinyAkko** : Surprised you even know what that means. :police_car: :X:

 **LadyBeatrice** : My politics may not be _quite_ so far-left as I surmise yours to be, but rest assured I stay informed of current events.

 **ShinyAkko** : Dw I’m not gonna crack out the guillotine jokes just cause you’re a centrist lmao. :chariotpinkyswear:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Centre-left, thank you very much. Social democrat, if we’re being precise.

 **ShinyAkko** : Close enough, we take those. :chariotcute:

 **ShinyAkko** : OMG her dumb face in this scene.

 **ShinyAkko** : Always cracks me up LMAO.

 **ShinyAkko** : Chariot Faces are a gift thank you Shiny Studios for blessing us.

 **LadyBeatrice** : I was always partial to her soft expression in the Season 3 finale. When Croix finally tells her that she believes in Chariot’s dream as well.

 **_ShinyAkko_ ** _sent an attachment._

 **ShinyAkko** : You best believe that scene lives _rent free_ in my head. :chariotlove:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Oh my you even have it as an emoji.

 **LadyBeatrice** : :chariotlove:

 **ShinyAkko** : Ofc.

 **ShinyAkko** : However, may I present, for your perusal, the finest collection of Dumb Chariot Faces in all the land.

 **_ShinyAkko_ ** _sent an attachment._

 **_ShinyAkko_ ** _sent an attachment._

 **_ShinyAkko_ ** _sent an attachment._

 **_ShinyAkko_ ** _sent an attachment._

 **ShinyAkko** : This next one is a particularly fine vintage. From Season 1 Episode 7’s broom race. The Spin. A favourite among connoisseurs. :wine_glass:

 **_ShinyAkko_ ** _sent an attachment._

 **LadyBeatrice** : Ah, I see you are a woman of most excellent taste. :croixapproval: If I may be so bold, how many times did you practice recreating that particular smear effect when you were learning animation?

 **ShinyAkko** : Yes.

 **LadyBeatrice** : LOL!

 **_ShinyAkko_ ** _sent an attachment._

 **ShinyAkko** : OK last one I swear but the way she falls over in this gif is _hysterical_ it kills me every time.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Hmm, and you expect me to believe that your reasons for having this gif saved are entirely connected to its comedic value, and _not_ the lingering shot of Chariot’s posterior?

 **ShinyAkko** : WHAT R U THE HORNY POLICE?

 **ShinyAkko** : You’ll never take me alive! :chariotflee:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Incorrigible.

 **ShinyAkko** : :croixglare:

 **ShinyAkko** : U know what.

 **ShinyAkko** : Imma call your bluffs.

 **ShinyAkko** : I’m about to find out just how horny u really are.

 **LadyBeatrice** : ???

 **LadyBeatrice** : Akko, why are you tabbing away from the episode.

 **LadyBeatrice** : _Akko, why are you going onto my Archive profile._

 **LadyBeatrice** : What are you doing!?

 **LadyBeatrice** : Oh.

 **ShinyAkko** : I

 **ShinyAkko** : FOUND IT

 **ShinyAkko** : YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD HIDE THE TRUTH FROM ME??

 **ShinyAkko** : LET SHE WHO IS WITHOUT HORNY CAST THE FIRST STONE!

 **ShinyAkko** : YOUR GLASS HOUSE IS LAID BARE FOR ALL TO SEE!

 **LadyBeatrice** : It _really_ is not quite so extreme as you’re making it seem.

 **ShinyAkko** : No getting out of this.

 **ShinyAkko** : You dare to call _me_ the thirsty hoe for my appreciation of Objectively The Best Girl, Shiny Chariot.

 **ShinyAkko** : AND YET

 **ShinyAkko** : YOU HAVE PUBLISHED S M U T

 **ShinyAkko** : UPON AO3

 **LadyBeatrice** : Yes, I have. I do not see any particular shame in posting an exploration of the carnal aspect of their relationship? It is a natural and healthy part of most adult relationships, and they _are_ aged up, of course.

 **ShinyAkko** : Yeah but hold up

 **ShinyAkko** : HOLD. UP.

 **LadyBeatrice** : What are you zooming in on?

 **LadyBeatrice** : Oh.

 **ShinyAkko** : TOP!CROIX?????????????????????????

 **LadyBeatrice** : :croixsmug:

 **LadyBeatrice** : I can’t believe you even think this is up for debate.

 **ShinyAkko** : bIH WHAT ARE YOU ON??

 **ShinyAkko** : Croix’s whole goddamn personality is built around being obsessed with Chariot she’s like a flustered mess every time she’s on screen with her!

 **ShinyAkko** : She couldn’t even top a list of “most bottom characters” that’s how much of a bottom she is!

 **LadyBeatrice** : Her rivalry and “obsession” with Chariot, as you so artlessly put it, are simply proof of her desire for Chariot, a desire which would reflect through into her wishing to take a commanding position in the bedroom. It could not be more obvious. Additionally, the animation itself always frames Croix above Chariot, looking down on her.

 **ShinyAkko** : SHORT GIRLS CAN TOP!

 **LadyBeatrice** : I never said they couldn’t, I merely pointed out that the framing devices used within Mahou Shoujo Shiny Chariot are themselves indicating that Croix is the top. I’m sorry it’s taken you this long to understand.

 **ShinyAkko** : I REFUSE TO ACCEPT THIS, CHARIOT IS A SEX GODDESS

 **LadyBeatrice** : You cannot possibly be serious.

 **ShinyAkko** : :chariotbean:

 **ShinyAkko** : SEX

 **ShinyAkko** : GODDESS

 **LadyBeatrice** : You are being preposterous. Croix is the top, Chariot is the bottom, end of conversation.

 **ShinyAkko** : Tbh imagine thinking Croix could get Chariot to sit still for more than five seconds anyway.

 **LadyBeatrice** : And therein lies the entertainment.

 **ShinyAkko** : :chariotblush:

 **ShinyAkko** : S P I C Y

 **ShinyAkko** : Who knew you had it in you.

 **LadyBeatrice** : Akko, why are you opening the story.

 **ShinyAkko** : Dramatic reading.

 **LadyBeatrice** : _Please_ don’t.

 **ShinyAkko** : LMAO jk. :chariotsnicker:

 **ShinyAkko** : Oh oops the ep ended LOL.

 **ShinyAkko** : I guess you gotta go now? :chariotsob: I had fun tho! We definitely need to do this again, what days work for you next week? :chariotcute:

_LadyBeatrice is typing…_

**LadyBeatrice** : Actually, I should have enough time for one more episode.

 **LadyBeatrice** : If you are quick, and do not get sidetracked by my writing again.

 **ShinyAkko** : :chariotyay: :chariotyay: :chariotyay: 

**ShinyAkko** : HELL YEAAAAAAA :chariotbean:

 **ShinyAkko** : I love ep 4 let’s goooooooo! :chariotcute:

 **LadyBeatrice** : Yes, it’s an early favourite of mine as well. The sequence with the Pappiliodya at the end remains one of the most stunning pieces of animation I have ever witnessed.

 **ShinyAkko** : Oh yeah I can’t wait. Seriously, complete silence for that scene, we gotta pay due respect to greatness. :chariotzip:

 **LadyBeatrice** : I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise. :chariotzip:

* * *

Akko awoke groggily the next morning, with her laptop still open next to her on her bed. She cracked an eye open to see it sitting on the episode select screen, which it had only returned to because they’d _finished_ the entirety of Season 1.

All twelve episodes.

It’d been nearly _three in the morning_ by the time Akko had fallen asleep to the bubbly credits of Episode 12. Had she even remembered to close the call? A quick tab over to Discord revealed that no, she’d been in the call all night. But also… 

**LadyBeatrice** : I had a wonderful time tonight, thank you.

 **LadyBeatrice** : :chariotheart:

 **ShinyAkko** : thansm,f yuikouhyj too0o L):)::cha::chr

 **LadyBeatrice** : Sleep well, Akko.

She’d even changed her profile picture to :croixsmug:

Akko, with one hand and a haze of sleep still covering her eyes, mashed out a response.

**ShinyAkko** : I dijn;t i ogt fuknin LECTUre nnnw

_09:52._

Eight minutes to get up, get dressed, get her crap, and get to class. Akko liked those odds.

* * *

Akko was trying not to tune out Professor Finnelan’s lecture. She _really_ was. She was sure it was all very interesting. And important. And would help her not fail her degree that her parents were spending over a million yen a year on.

…Screw it, no one _else_ was paying attention either. Akko tabbed away from re-reading her Discord conversation with Beatrice, and opened a new Google Doc.

**A Witch’s Adventure! Redux! - Chapter 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)!
> 
> Also this chapter is dedicated to (and sourced from) all the long spiralling chats about gay witches and everything else I've had with the world's best ND Gang ily all of u


	13. Like Fire, Pt 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an aside, just wanna say a huge thank you to everyone who got involved with Diakko Day, here and elsewhere! Really lovely to see so many people sharing great stuff for our favourite gay witches. Now have this really angsty chapter to say thanks!

Akko rapped against Lotte’s door, already calling inside. “Hey Lotte, I need help with my fic!”

Lotte opened the door, failing to appropriately brace herself for Hurricane Akko as she burst into the room, hopping onto Lotte’s chair and spinning it across the floor. Lotte settled onto her bed with a soft laugh. “You’re writing again?”

“Yeah!” Akko said, hauling out her laptop to show Lotte the half-chapter she’d got completed. “I was rewatching the series with Beatrice on Sunday and I just got _so_ inspired that I—”

“Wait, Beatrice? As in, LadyBeatrice?” Lotte asked, accepting Akko’s laptop with wide eyes.

“Oh. Yeah we’re friends now! _Shit_ did I forget to say?” Akko’s face fell. “Oops. I told you she reached out to me to apologise after the Edgar’s Bitch stuff, right?”

Lotte nodded. “I thought that was nice of her.”

“Yeah I guess we just… kept chatting after that?” Akko shrugged. “Turns out we get on pretty alright! She’s actually really funny, even if you’d never know it from her fics. Oh, and she _totally_ called out Edgar’s Bitch in the group chat we had, it was _amazing!”_ Akko’s face lit up as she rambled. “She even agrees that Chariot is a perfect bean who must be protected! Even if her favourite character is Croix…” she trailed off with a grumble.

“That’s really lovely to hear.” Lotte smiled brightly. “It must be nice having a friend who’s invested in your favourite show.”

“Yeah!” Akko grinned. “It’s like… it’s so nice being able to talk about it without having to stop to explain what I mean? Or without worrying that I’m bothering her, or she’s gonna get bored!” Akko hesitated. She _did_ still bother Beatrice sometimes. But they’d talked that out! It was fine now, right? “Like, we watched the whole of Season 1 and we chatted the whole time and honestly, if I hadn’t fallen asleep? I’d have kept going!”

“An entire season?” Lotte smiled knowingly. “Is that why I saw you running to your lecture five minutes late with your shirt on backwards on Monday?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny these allegations!” Akko protested with a grin.

Lotte laughed, turning her attention back to Akko’s fic. “So, what did you want help with?”

“Um… everything?” Akko said, scratching her neck. “My writing kinda sucks, how do I make it better?”

“That’s a bit vague, Akko,” Lotte started. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to write that you want to focus on?”

“Hmmm.” Akko cast her gaze skywards as she thought. “I dunno? I just wanna write something that feels like Shiny Chariot, y’know? I want my writing to make people feel that same kind of excitement and happiness I get when I watch it.”

“OK, that’s a good start.” Lotte nodded. “So, what are your favourite things about Shiny Chariot?”

Akko took a deep breath.

“Maybe stick to just the most important bits first!” Lotte said quickly.

Akko giggled. “Fine, fine. Umm, I love the animation, of course. It’s so exciting and dynamic and _funny_ and it’s really hard to capture that in writing?” Akko wrung her hands in frustration. “Like, I can _imagine_ how cool it’ll look when the characters fly up on a broom and fire a Shiny Arc but when I write it it just… doesn’t have the same effect.” She slumped for a second, before perking up again. “I love the characters too, especially Chariot! She’s so hopeful and positive and when I write her I want everyone to see how plucky she is and be inspired by that!”

“So you want to improve at your description of events, particularly the magical action?” Lotte translated. “And at character writing, particularly Chariot and her optimism?”

“Yeah, exactly!” Akko cheered. “Oh, one last thing?” She looked down, before admitting quietly, “I wanna get better at writing romance too.”

Lotte gasped, clasping her hands together with delight. “I have _so much_ to teach you.”

Akko shrank back from the eerie glow coming from Lotte’s eyes. “Uh, thanks?”

Lotte reached for her shelf, pulling down book after book. “Read this first, _Pride and Prejudice_ is a classic _for a good reason!_ Then once you’re done with that, _Sense and Sensibility._ Then we can move onto the Brontes, and then…” Her hand stilled upon the great shelves of NightFall books. “Maybe Volume 127? It has one of the greatest love confessions ever written, but I’m not sure it would have the same impact without the rest of the series for context…”

“Lotte, I don’t have time to read over a hundred vampire books!” Akko protested. “And besides, aren’t all these romances… straight?”

“Love is universal, Akko!” Lotte declared. “And NightFall has _plenty_ of homoerotic subtext between Edgar and Arthur that you could study—”

“Lotte! I wanna write about girls kissing each other, OK!?” Akko threw her hands up in protest. “Anyway, I’ve read enough yuri manga for stu—” she clapped her hand over her mouth.

Lotte didn’t even flinch. “Akko, I would’ve been more surprised if you _didn’t_ have a yuri collection hidden somewhere in your room.”

Akko lowered her hand from her mouth, gazing sideways. “…Fair. Not like I _don’t_ know how smutty NightFall gets.” She glared accusingly.

Lotte remained unflinching. “I am _well_ aware.”

“You thirsty hoe,” Akko snickered.

“I’m sorry _what?”_ Lotte gasped.

“Oh shit sorry! Didn’t mean it, Beatrice and I keep calling each other thirsty hoes and it kinda slipped out,” Akko apologised frantically.

“No, I’m not offended, I’m just…” Lotte shook her head with a disbelieving smile. “And to think how much you hated her a couple weeks ago.”

 _Akko_ flinched. She really had, hadn’t she? Hell, if it hadn’t been for the Edgar’s Bitch bullshit, would they have ever started really talking? Akko didn’t like to think about it much. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Anyway, I suppose you can reread some of your favourite manga for inspiration with romance?” Lotte suggested.

Akko shrugged. “Maybe, but I’ve already read all of it and my romance writing still sucks, not sure what reading it again will do.”

“Try reading with a critical mindset,” Lotte said. “When you learned how to copy Shiny Chariot’s animation, you thought a lot about what tricks they used to get the effect they were going for, right?”

“Kinda?” Akko said. “Half the time I figured out the approaches by just repeatedly trying until I found something that works,” she admitted.

Lotte nodded. “Well, do that with romance too! Read one you really like, and try to think about what the best parts are, and what they did to make those moments work so well. Think about how the rest of the story leads to it, the foreshadowing, the tension. Think about how they specifically chose to resolve it. Dramatic and shocking? Tender and intimate? How did the rest of the story work to set up that tone? Then you can try and recreate that yourself!”

Akko reeled back, trying to process everything Lotte had just said. “Can you write that all down?” she asked after a moment. “Sorry I don’t think I processed it all.”

Lotte nodded. “I’ll open another tab here, OK?”

“Thanks.” Akko kicked her legs a bit on Lotte’s chair. Shame that committing to trying to get better at writing meant she _actually_ had to try and get better at writing. Would be so much nicer if she could just skip to the “being good” part.

“Once you’ve done some studying, a good trick that they advise us in Creative Writing Soc is to just practice writing the topic? Set yourself half an hour or so and just write a romance scene from the start. Do that a few times, and you’ll get better!” Lotte smiled. “Actually, if you want to come along to Writing Soc, I’m sure they’ll be very helpful. Most of the people there aren’t beginners, but the execs are really nice…” she trailed off.

“Nah, clashes with Anime Soc.” Akko shook her head. “And besides, I’ve got you!” Lotte looked like she was about to protest, but Akko continued. “Seriously, it’s a lot less stressful learning this stuff from a friend and not feeling judged, thanks a lot.”

“It’s no problem, Akko. I really love helping people out with their writing.” Lotte smiled softly. “And I’m glad you came to me for help.”

Akko grinned. “Yeah! Which is why this first chapter’s gonna be the _best!”_

“One step at a time, Akko,” Lotte gently chided her.

Akko sighed. “Fiiine. Alright, what am I gonna work on next?”

Lotte turned thoughtful for a moment. “Tell me what you said again about Chariot’s animation?”

“Uhh, it’s really vibrant and colourful? Has a lot of really funny visual gags or smear frames too. It’s _so_ hard to explain those in writing!” Akko complained.

Lotte clapped her hands together. “Wait, no, I got it!” She began typing frantically. “You don’t need to describe how that animation looks, you have to _communicate_ that feeling of vibrancy and humour in the writing! If you make the writing energetic and funny, it’ll feel just like the show, even if the reader can’t see it!”

“Really?” Akko sat up in Lotte’s chair, eyes shining at the thought. It made sense! Animation was animation, and writing was writing. If she couldn’t _animate_ a funny face, she could just _write_ something funny!

How had she never thought of that before?

“You’re really good at this, Lotte,” Akko said. “I never would’ve thought of that without you.”

“It’s no problem,” Lotte said, “I’m glad I was able to help.”

Akko hopped off the bed. “OK! New Super Special Fanfic Writing Plan! I’m gonna go practice writing some kissy scenes, and then I’m gonna write my first chapter! And it’s gonna be epic! And exciting! And funny! Just like Shiny Chariot!”

“Good luck!” Lotte called into the hallway as Akko dashed back to her own room.

* * *

_“Hey Croix!” Chariot shouted happily._

_“Hello Chariot.” Croix responded smilingly._

_Then Chariot kissed her!_

_Their mouths opened wide, kissing each other so happily because they were so in love!_

_Chariot pushed her tongue into Croix’s mouth, battling for dominance. Chariot won!_ **_[A/N: BECAUSE SHE’S THE TOP! Although this scene is a T so that doesn’t matter too much!]_ ** _Chariot’s tongue went all the way into Croix’s mouth!_

_“I love you so much, Chariot!” Croix exclaimed as Chariot kissed her even more!_

Akko stopped. Wait, shit, Croix couldn’t _talk_ while she was being kissed! Dammit Akko! Right, fine, she could just delete that one line and keep going. Actually, better to stop and reread first, just make sure it was all going alright.

It… wasn’t. Reading it now, Akko really wasn’t feeling the _romance_ of the scene. Yeah, they were kissing, she might even say _making out,_ but it didn’t feel like… love. Which was stupid! She literally _said_ they were in love, so why didn’t it _feel_ like they were in love!?

Writing was dumb. At least with animation, if she wanted something to be cool, she could just make it cool! Why didn’t writing work like that!?

Maybe she was never gonna be able to write romance well. Maybe she should try drawing it first? She’d done a few Charoix doodles over the years (and one OC/Chariot drawing when she was eleven that not another living soul had seen or ever would see), maybe she should draw what was in her head and see if she could translate that into words?

But then translating art into writing had never worked for her before. If it did, she wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place! Rereading manga hadn’t really helped either. Kase-san was cute but didn’t really _fit_ for Chariot or Croix, and all that reading Strawberry Panic had done was remind her of the ridiculous crush she’d once had on confident, aloof, silver-haired Shizuma.

Good thing she didn’t feel anything like that anymore. Obviously.

Although now she thought of it, maybe she should write something a bit more like Marimite? Less of a makeout and more… gentle. Granted, they never actually _kissed_ in that, which was downright _unfair_ after Akko had read _all thirty-nine volumes_ with bated breath, but… 

_Chariot brought her hand to Croix’s waist. She pulled her closer. Very softly!_

_“I love you,” Chariot whispered quietly._

_“I love you too, Chariot,” Croix whispered back, just as quietly._

_They leaned towards each other. Croix tilted her head down. Heather leaned up and aslkdfjasdkldfjkadskfjasflafjiou89q7uioiklsjfasdkflasjfKLSDJHAKFJSADKF FUCKF UCK FUCK_

Fuck.

You know what? No more kiss scenes.

Actually, it was getting pretty close to six anyway, and Akko wasn’t about to be late for Shoujo night!

She could practice some more writing when she got back. Not kissing, of course, but how about, uhh… comedy! Comedy was a good shout! Akko was funny! She could do comedy! She was funny in real life, even Beatrice thought so! All she had to do was write that down onto the page, it’d be perfect!

Now that Akko thought of it, maybe comedy could be her main focus? If Beatrice’s deal was being sad all the time, why couldn’t Akko be funny all the time? And funny all the time was _a lot_ closer to Shiny Chariot anyway! Shiny Chariot was all about making people happy and cheering them up, and if Akko could write really funny fics, she’d be doing the same!

This couldn’t possibly fail! After all, Akko was funny as _hell._

* * *

_Why wasn’t it working!?_

What was going on? Akko had written about fifteen or twenty different jokes down now and they just weren’t funny at all! Not a single one! She’d even tried a _knock-knock_ joke out of desperation, and honestly she felt _sorry_ for the kind of person who would’ve laughed at Chariot saying “no silly, _owls_ say hoo!”

But that made no sense cause _Akko_ had told that joke in real life just a week ago and Amanda had cracked up. Sucy had threatened to poison her again, but honestly that was an even higher honour for a bad pun. So why was it so _unfunny_ when she wrote it down like this? Was there something about writing that made it less funny? But Akko was just as funny over text, right? Same style of humour and everything, just with a few more emojis and keysmashes.

Maybe she should just quote jokes from her chat with Beatrice, then. That was text, this was writing, should work, right?

_“You’re so pretty, Croix!” Chariot shouted excitedly._

_“You thirsty hoe.” Croix said._

Even _that_ wasn’t funny! In fact it was _so_ unfunny that Akko was worried she’d just killed the joke for good. Akko held a brief moment of silence for a fallen friend. So long, Thirsty Hoe, you were taken from us too soon.

…That was _hilarious!_ Why was she dropping comedy gold in her _head_ but not on the _page!?_

This was dumb, no matter how hard Akko tried, the jokes simply weren’t coming. She tried to think back to her deleted fic. She’d written jokes for that, hadn’t she? She was trying to make something new, but if she could at least remember how she wrote jokes before, that’d be a start, right?

Akko hunted through her Google Docs, trying to remember which chapters had the best jokes. Maybe she should’ve used actual names, rather than “Fic ch 107,” would’ve made it way easier to remember which chapter had the line about Chariot’s Shiny Butt.

…Who was she kidding that joke wasn’t even funny in the first place.

Akko scrolled back up to the top of her documents and, on a whim, clicked “Fic ch 114.”

Had this really only been a couple of weeks ago? It was so… bitter. Well, it _was_ actually kinda funny, but in the sort of mean and spiteful way that made Akko feel almost ashamed that she’d written about her friend like that.

Akko didn’t normally hold grudges. Yeah, sure, she’d snapped at Edgar’s Bitch—Barbara—that one time, but now, over a week on? All Akko’s rage against her had burned away and now Edgar’s Bitch was just, well, kind of a bitch.

She was barely even mad anymore. And it made no _sense_ cause she’d felt like _shit_ for a whole day! Snapping at Barbara had felt _amazing,_ like she was delivering justice for not just herself, but everyone who’d been insulted by her! But _now_ she could barely even get the energy to feel pissed for _herself,_ never mind whatever random NightFall writers she tore apart in the same way.

Did Akko _want_ to be mad at Barbara? Should she feel guilty about losing that righteous anger, or guilty for having snapped in the first place?

She looked back at the doc.

_Beatrice was staring out at the New Moon Tower. “How I had always imagined myself to be alike to the moon…”_

_“Shut up,” Akko told her._

Yeesh. Had she really written that? It had felt so right at the time, yet now, as she tried to recapture the righteous anger that had made her giggle to herself as she wrote it, it slipped right out of her chest, seeping through her ribs and dissipating into the air. Lotte had been right about the escalation thing. Akko had fucked up.

That was why there was still that tension between the two of them, wasn’t it? Of course Beatrice was worried that Akko was insulting her, the first thing Akko had _done_ was insult her about how sad her fics were.

Which… was that really fair of her? Sure, Beatrice had mocked Akko’s fics, but Akko’s fics sucked. Maybe Beatrice’s were really good if you liked angst? Akko couldn’t really understand liking angst _that_ much, but maybe some people did? And that excerpt Beatrice had sent her was actually pretty good! Sure it was a _little_ angsty but nowhere near as bad as her other fics.

Akko _had_ skimmed a few others aside from _Moonlight,_ and they were all similar levels of soul-drainingly depressing. But all that made her think now was, why did Beatrice write such sad fics? And for Shiny Chariot, no less? Sure, the final episode was a gut punch, but _aside_ from that the show was bubbly and exciting as all hell, what would possess someone to write over fifty ultra-sad fics for Chariot?

Hell, Beatrice herself had admitted on Sunday that her super sad all the time Chariot was out of character, so why had she written her like that in the first place? She’d said that she would struggle to write Chariot as the happy bean that she was… why? Why would someone _only_ write sad stuff?

Maybe it was, like, some kind of weird maturity thing? Everyone Akko knew who’d watched Chariot as a kid had “grown out of it” at some point. Even her friend Fumiko, who’d watched a bit of Seasons 1 and 2 with Akko in middle school, had shown no interest by the time they were in high school.

So maybe Beatrice was trying to make Shiny Chariot more mature by making it sadder? She’d written smut too, so that _would_ make sense, wouldn’t it? But no, something about that didn’t seem right. Beatrice still loved Chariot! They’d rewatched a whole damn season, you didn’t do that if you were secretly ashamed of the show, did you?

So what was it then? Maybe she’d read so much angsty fanfic that she’d lost track of who the characters actually were? Maybe she just liked torturing her readers? 

Maybe she—

Maybe… 

Maybe Beatrice just wrote sad fics because she was sad?

That couldn’t be right, could it? Why would you write such sad stuff when you were already sad? Wouldn’t that just make you sadder? Most of the time, when Akko was upset, she’d listen to happy music, or read cute fluff fics, or just watch a light-hearted episode or two. It didn’t cure the sadness immediately, but it helped. The absolute last thing she wanted to do was read angst. And reading one of _Beatrice’s_ fics while you were already sad would basically be like—

Like digital self-harm.

Akko sank back in her chair as the weight of the realisation hit her. Amanda’s explanation replayed itself in Akko’s brain as a deep well of guilt opened in her stomach. It was literally just the same thing as Akko reading and rereading Beatrice’s first message to her. Or refusing to delete those emails from Edgar’s Bitch. But Akko only did that kinda thing when she was _really_ down. Like, not just a little upset, _really_ sad.

Did Beatrice feel like that all the time?

That could happen to people, right? Akko knew what depression was, did Beatrice have that? Was writing angsty fics just her way of coping with the fact she literally felt sad _all the time?_

And Akko had mocked her about it. She glanced back at the doc still sitting open on her screen. She felt almost sick to her stomach.

_“No, I’m too busy thinking about how sad I am all the time.”_

How fucking awful would it be to _actually_ feel sad all the time? To feel as bad as Akko had felt after reading that comment, but _all the time._ Was that what depression was like? Akko wasn’t sure. Should she look it up? Would that be like an invasion of privacy in some way? She wasn’t exactly about to hop into Beatrice’s DMs and say “hey, do u have depression? :chariotcurious:”

But… would it be possible to apologise _without_ asking first? Which was worse, not apologising, or assuming your friend had depression? Beatrice would almost _certainly_ think she was being mocked. Again. Why wouldn’t she? The first thing Akko had done was laugh about how sad she was.

Akko was a terrible person.

And an even shittier friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	14. Lady Beatrice, Pt 2

“So, um, what symptoms do you have?” asked one of Diana’s classmates, Amelia, wasn’t it?

The man sitting on the chair in front of them fake-yawned loudly. “I’m sick,” he said.

“OK, yeah, that’s why we’re here…” Amelia said. “Do you feel sore?”

“Yeah.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.” He did an exaggerated stretch. “Ow.”

Diana fought the urge to hiss air out of her nostrils, or sigh, or hold her head in her hands or show any of the frustration she so dearly wanted to as Amelia’s “diagnosis” continued.

“That’s not really very helpful…” Amelia muttered, flipping through pages on her clipboard. “Do you have a sore throat or anything?”

“Yes.” The man yawned again. “Can we hurry up? I’m feeling really tired…”

“Um…” Amelia flipped through her notes again.

Diana stepped forwards. “Amelia, would you like some assistance?”

Amelia’s eyes flicked rapidly between Diana, their “patient,” and the post-grad junior doctor in the corner who was meant to be overseeing them. He nodded, indicating that Diana was welcome to assist. Finally.

Diana turned to the patient. “Do you have any pain in your spleen?”

“I dunno where tha—”

“Your upper left abdomen, roughly behind your stomach.” Diana gestured on her own body. “Do you feel a sense of constant pain from that area?”

“Yeah, I guess?” The patient said, poking himself in roughly that spot. “Ow.”

Diana nodded, steeling herself for the next part. “Would you find it permissible if I touch your neck to observe a symptom?”

“That’s OK, but I’m pretty sore there,” the man said reluctantly.

Diana reached round to the back of the man’s jaw, pressing her fingers against his lymph glands. “Is this particularly sore?”

“Yes, please stop poking me there.” The man deadpanned.

She turned to the junior doctor. “Would I feel swelling here?”

“Yes, quite severe swelling,” he confirmed.

“As I suspected.” Diana turned her gaze back to her patient, moving her fingers away from his neck. “You have mononucleosis. The recommended treatments are bedrest, healthy eating when you are able, and to drink plenty of fluids. Aspirin may aid with reducing the pain of your various aches, and gargling salt water can be an effective treatment of a sore throat if it becomes overwhelming. It is recommended that you avoid contact sports, and minimise your consumption of alcohol, so as to minimise the risk of causing further damage to your spleen.”

“Oh.” The man looked somewhat shellshocked. He yawned again.

“Please cover your mouth when you yawn, mononucleosis is transferred via saliva.” Diana leaned away from him. Of course he didn’t  _ actually _ have mono, but she was supposed to be treating this as if it was a real patient with real symptoms.

“Is it?” he asked. “Wait, so does that mean I can’t kiss my girlfriend?”

“Given that mononucleosis has an infectious incubation period of approximately fifty days, it is extremely likely she already has it, unless you have not kissed her during that time,” Diana said. Two of the other girls giggled, for some reason. “I would also recommend that both you and she not kiss anybody else until your symptoms have fully abated.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” the man snickered a bit. Could he  _ at least _ try to stay in character?

“Will that be all?” Diana asked of their impromptu invigilator.

“No, I think that’s everything,” he said. “Your group correctly diagnosed all five illnesses, well done.”

Diana nodded once. She didn’t even have the heart to feel bitter at Amelia and the other girls celebrating their nigh guaranteed first on this practical, having done precisely none of the actual work. What mattered was that Diana was achieving the grades she needed to. If doing so would carry others higher, that was no real bother to her.

Although it  _ would _ have been nice if her classmates had actually read the material, rather than just expecting Diana to do everything herself. They’d only been given a list of twenty possible illnesses to remember, and mononucleosis was one of the most common illnesses in the UK, roughly 70-80% of people contracted it at some point in their life. Diana had figured it out the moment he started yawning,  _ how _ had Amelia not even thought to ask about the lymph glands?

Never mind that the bloody actor playing the patient had been more wooden than a carpentry exhibit. “Ow” indeed. She recognised that they couldn’t exactly hire professionals, but it was as if he had been  _ intentionally _ useless just to irritate them!

“Miss Cavendish, a word, if you don’t mind?” The junior doctor called her back before she could join her classmates in leaving the room.

Diana stopped in her tracks, turning towards him. “Certainly.”

He waved her over as the door swung shut. “I imagine you’ll be wondering if the others will be receiving a high grade, given that you did the majority of the work?”

Diana shook her head. “It doesn’t matter at all to me what grades they receive. Our group completed the tasks to the best of our ability, that is what matters.”

He sucked in breath sharply. “Yes, that’s the… other thing I was going to talk about. Miss Cavendish, your group’s final score for this assessment will be sixty-two percent.”

Diana froze. It was as if he had physically slapped her instead of saying those words. Frankly, she would have preferred that. At least that would have only hurt for a few minutes, but a  _ result below a first? _ That was forever.

“Do you know why that is?”

“I do not,” Diana said in a clipped tone. “We correctly identified every illness within as short a timeframe as can be expected. While I would certainly expect a dropped mark or two for errors such as forgetting to remind the patient of the manner in which mononucleosis is transferred until his yawning reminded me, I fail to see where we lost thirty-eight.”

“Oh, no you got the full fifty marks for identifying all the illnesses and required treatments, no issues there.” The junior doctor flipped over a page. “But the  _ other _ half of the marks were for your care of the patient. Reassuring them, having a gentle demeanour, overall positive interactions… Your group received only twelve of a possible fifty on that section.”

“I—”

“Miss Cavendish.” He folded his glasses. “None of you even asked him for his name.”

“Oh.” Diana kept her face neutral even as she felt the bottom dropping out of her stomach.

“I would recommend revising that section of the syllabus more thoroughly before your next practical,” he suggested. “Interpersonal skills are important in the medical profession, a patient’s comfort and feelings of security can often be critical to their recovery. That is why we perform these practicals so early into the course, so that any deficiencies in this area can be identified, and these skills developed.”

“I understand.” Diana nodded. “I will do my best in future.”

“Good.” He smiled at her, Diana did not smile back.

* * *

“Alright, we’re gonna do something a little different tonight!” Frank was already out of his chair. The theme discussion had been dragged on interminably as ever, and Diana hadn’t even joined in at all this time. Bloody Andrew. “Everyone put your coats back on, because we’re heading out onto the square!”

Several voices gave rise to the question in Diana’s chest.  _ “Why?” _

“We’re going people-watching!” Frank said. “What better way to get a feel for natural, realistic dialogue than to listen to actual people talking? I want you all to listen in on the conversations you hear, the little fragments and snippets, and imagine what interesting things they’re talking about that you only got to hear a little bit about! What wonderful, unique worlds those people have within themselves, that you’re only getting the briefest snapshot into!”

_ This _ was ridiculous. At least the sprint had ended up being more valuable than she’d expected, but listening to random strangers for dialogue ideas!?

“Once you’ve picked up a few things, try to write a bit! Think about expanding what you heard into a full dialogue, or just writing about what you see!” Frank suggested, already shrugging his coat onto his shoulders and heading for the door, trailed by Andrew and the rest of the society.

Diana had half a mind to just keep on walking home once they made it to the square.

But she didn’t. Damn inertia or peer pressure or whatever it was, but she’d ended up sat in front of the Last Wednesday Society with a cup of tea trying to fend off the mid-October chill.

And Lotte. Lotte was sitting with her. She really should have that bit at the forefront of her mind, given that she’d been told  _ just today _ that she needed to work on her interpersonal skills. Should she speak to Lotte? Would it be defeating the purpose of “people-watching” if they just talked to one another instead?

“Feels a bit weird to be just  _ listening _ to people,” Lotte solved her dilemma for her. “Sort of intrusive.”

“I agree.” Diana sniffed. “I’m not sure what value we can be expected to gain from this exercise, even if it  _ weren’t _ so obviously rude.”

“I think it’s a good idea in theory,” Lotte defended, “but I’m a bit too shy to poke into other people’s conversations, I guess.”

“A commendable trait.” Diana nodded. She was being cold, wasn’t she? One sentence answers, not offering any new topics, that was cold, yes?

“Lotte, when you first read Pride and Prejudice, was it in English?” Diana asked. A new topic, that was appropriate. “You mentioned that it was the first English language novel that you read, and I was curious as to whether you’d read it in your own language first.”

“Oh, I read it in Finnish first, yeah,” Lotte said. “The translation was good, but you really lose the subtlety of Austen’s dialogue that way, so I’m really glad I read it in English too.”

“Ah yes, I had wondered if the intricacies would be captured in the communication to another language.” Diana sighed. “It makes me wonder what significance I might have missed when reading translated works myself. I must confess to being terribly English, and that French is the only language I would have the potential mastery over to feasibly read a novel in.”

“Maybe you could try reading Les Mis in French, then?” Lotte suggested. “Then you could compare the differences.”

“I might just try that, yes.” Diana nodded. “Perhaps with Les Fleurs Du Mal.” Diana smiled. “Now I think of it, I am quite excited to read Baudelaire’s poetic phrasings as they originally spilled forth from his mind. Thank you for your suggestion, Lotte.”

“Tell me how it goes!” Lotte said. “I haven’t actually read that, but I might give it a read in English and we can talk about it next time?”

“An excellent idea,” Diana said, “I shall look forward to it.”

They lapsed back into silence once more, but Diana didn’t feel quite so guilty about this one. That had been a nice conversation, pleasant even. Perhaps she would even engage in this people-watching nonsense, just so she didn’t return to the common room with nothing to show for herself.

“Hey there!” Frank waved boisterously as he approached. “How are you two getting on?”

“Not that well,” Lotte admitted. “I’m a bit too shy to just listen in on other people’s conversations.”

“We instead chose to pass the time by discussing novels we enjoy, particularly the topic of reading translated works, and the minor differences that can be found between such translations and the original text,” Diana said.

“Oh, that’s really interesting!” Frank sat down next to Lotte, crossing one of his lanky legs over the other. “I don’t think I can offer much there, did a bit of Latin in school but I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to compare and contrast Aeneid with the English translations any time soon,” he said, barking a laugh. “Say, Lotte, you mentioned you like vampire books, right?”

“Um, yeah,” Lotte said.

“So is that like Dracula or other stuff?” Frank asked. “Good book, not sure I’d say it’s my favourite but I enjoyed it a lot.”

Diana bristled. “How  _ anybody _ could enjoy such a derivative, shoddily written imitation when Carmilla exists is  _ eternally _ beyond me,” she said derisively. “When Stoker shamelessly copied Countess Karnstein for his own inferior character, he completely neglected to compensate for everything about Mircalla’s  _ femininity _ which informed her character, leaving Count De Ville as a haphazard collection of traits that read as far more possessive and threatening than the ‘romantic seducer’ he believed he stole.”

Stunned silence met Diana’s impassioned words. “…Not a Dracula fan then,” Frank said. “You more a fan of Carmilla as well, Lotte?”

“It’s good,” Lotte said quietly.

…Diana had ruined the conversation, hadn’t she. Lotte looked like she’d shrunk in on herself, and Frank was smiling genially but that was probably just some kind of act, wasn’t it. This hadn’t happened to Diana in some time. She’d got  _ better  _ at not doing this. Why had she  _ failed _ now, just when she was starting to get along with Lotte?

“If you’ll excuse me, I am growing somewhat stiff, so I might take a short walk,” Diana said quickly, finishing her tea and standing up.

Lotte and Frank called a goodbye to her as she left, Diana nodded in response.

Her breath condensed in front of her face as she stepped away from the little warmth that had been radiating out the front of the tea shop. Would it even be worth coming back next week? She’d already paid her membership, but ten pounds was not exactly enough of a sunk cost to force her back every week when she’d just ruined the one positive connection she’d been able to develop.

Diana hadn’t even written a single word this week, or joined in with any of the theme discussions, so was there even a point? The writing sprint had been useful, but she could just do those in her own time, maybe try a prompt generating website or the like if she really needed to. Not that she’d written a word since the last session, but that had been because she was  _ busy, _ not because the thought of writing any more fanfiction made her chest feel like it was collapsing in on itself.

Which was  _ ridiculous, _ she’d even had that  _ bloody wonderful _ chat with Akko and she’d been  _ so inspired _ to write more, to try and recapture that sense of joy that had been missing from her work, but every time she sat down to write it was like her heart was trying to hammer its way out of her ribcage.

What good was catharsis if it inflicted more pain than it healed?

…Shit that was a good bloody line. Shame she would never use it.

“Miss Cavendish.”

Andrew’s voice broke Diana out of her reverie. She’d been standing still, gazing into the middle distance at nothing in particular for… it had felt like a minute but truthfully it could have been half an hour for all Diana knew. “Mr Hanbridge,” Diana acknowledged. “What is it you wish to discuss?”

“I wished to know why you are here,” Andrew said.

“I felt that my presence was negatively affecting Lotte and Frank’s conversation, so I removed myself,” Diana said.

Andrew’s eyebrow rose imperceptibly. “Yes, there is something of a… spark between the two of them. I am impressed that you noticed.”

Diana hadn’t noticed that at all.

Andrew sighed. “But that is not what I meant. What I meant to ask was, why are you attending this society in the first place?”

“As I already informed you, writing is a hobby of mine. I attended at a friend’s recommendation so that I might improve my craft,” Diana said.

“No, you didn’t,” Andrew said bluntly.

“I beg your pardon?” Diana’s own eyebrow rose. Dangerously.

“You did not attend this society to improve as a writer. You attended so that you would be  _ told _ that you are already a good writer.” Andrew said firmly.

“Why would I need to hear that, I am already aware that I’m a good writer,” Diana said dismissively. Who she was dismissing, she wasn’t sure.

“Because you had some form of crisis of confidence, and rather than doing the  _ brave _ thing of confronting it, and emerging as a stronger writer and person, you sought to escape from it.” Andrew’s gaze hardened. “You have not engaged with a single one of our discussions or exercises. The one time you did, you recoiled as if struck when I did not immediately lavish your suggestion with glowing praise.”

“You are using our personal dislike of one another as a platform from which to leap to ridiculous conclusions,” Diana said evenly.

“Perhaps I am,” Andrew acknowledged. “I do not claim to be any form of expert in reading your behaviours, merely in recognising a behaviour I have seen time and time again in struggling writers who lack the vulnerability and strength required to confront their own faults. A behaviour which I thought you were better than, Diana.”

“It pleases me to see you have not lost your penchant for twisting the knife, Mr Hanbridge,” Diana said icily. “Now if you don’t mind, I think I shall be on my way.”

“A pleasant evening to you then, Miss Cavendish.” Andrew bowed his head stiffly. “Do feel free to return as and when you develop the required humility to improve at this craft.”

Diana didn’t even acknowledge him as she left.

* * *

Diana clicked the front door of her house open, barely even acknowledging Hannah and Barbara as she quickly, mechanically moved to her room. Once inside, she immediately draped her coat over her chair. Sloppy, impossibly so, but she needed it off. Despite how brisk the weather had been, she felt like she was burning up.

Diana paused, taking a deep breath in through her nose. She hung up her coat. Being in a bad mood didn’t mean she needed to be  _ slovenly. _

Fucking  _ dickhead. _

God, he’d even reduced her to swearing. That was unusual, even in her own head.

And the  _ worst _ part was that Andrew had been  _ entirely bloody correct  _ the whole time. It made Diana want to tear at her hair just  _ thinking _ about it. Every single word he’d said had been completely accurate. She  _ had _ gone to the society seeking validation. She  _ had _ shied away from engaging with the discussions. She  _ had _ refused to confront the flaws in her writing.

And in her person.

She was a complete mess. Just a week ago she’d almost had a bloody panic attack over how  _ awful  _ her writing was, and now she was about to have another one because someone else had noticed.

But that wasn’t true, was it.

Just like Andrew had said, she was refusing to confront herself. Refusing to show the vulnerability she  _ needed _ to to improve as a writer and— _ it wasn’t even about being a fucking writer! _ Stupid  _ fucking _ woman why was she still  _ lying _ to herself!?

_ This is dreadful. _

It wasn’t about being a terrible writer. It was about being a terrible  _ person. _ Which Diana  _ was. _ Unequivocally. What kind of person went onto some random girl’s fic with five bloody kudos and sent her a page long rant tearing it apart? Who was that  _ benefitting? _

_ This is dreadful _

Diana knew exactly who. Herself. She’d felt  _ really good _ writing that hate comment. She’d felt  _ amazing. _ It had been bitter, and petty, and spiteful, and she’d enjoyed every  _ second _ that she’d spent just tearing into this random stranger who had committed no greater sin than writing a bad fanfic that Diana had continued to hate-read for no reason  _ other _ than to fuel her own awful comments.

_ This is dreadful. _

Who did that. How was  _ that _ the kind of person Diana had let herself become? How was  _ that _ the kind of person who was living up to her family legacy of  _ affection? _ To the woman that Diana’s mother had wanted to see her grow up into.

_ This is dreadful. _

Spitting on her mother’s grave would have been less of an insult to her memory than Diana’s life was.

_ This is drea- _

So where did that leave her? Nowhere good, Diana knew that much. Her life as it was could not continue, not with this level of  _ pure hatred _ for the person she’d become. She did not wish for her life to end, thus she had to become a different person. A better person. The kind of person that would have made her mother proud.

Now the only question was how to achieve such a change. Preventing herself from indulging in her worst behaviours would be an appropriate first step. All she had to do was catalogue her most negative impulses, and remain vigilant in preventing them from occurring. That seemed easy enough, she had already been doing that with behaviours which caused her embarrassment, like going on long, impassioned rants about Dracula being dreadful, all she had to do was extend that to behaviours that hurt  _ others. _

Like she should have been doing in the bloody first place. That was the next step. Remembering to put others before herself and her own ridiculous sense of pride. She was studying to become a  _ doctor, _ for heaven’s sake. A doctor who didn’t even ask for the names of her patients, apparently.

Diana thought back to the time she’d developed a particularly nasty fever as a child, and Anna had brought her to the hospital. She remembered Dr. Anand, how kind he’d been, how friendly. How he’d spoken so fondly of Diana’s mother, reassured Diana even as the pain from the fever had been so overwhelming and  _ burning _ that she’d felt like screaming and wailing at every moment.

Diana imagined herself in his shoes. Imagined a cold, unfeeling woman, mechanically telling herself that she had pyrexia, and that she would be administering herself alternating doses of ibuprofen and paracetamol to treat it, and then walking off without even finding out that a little girl called Diana felt very scared and just wanted to be told she would be OK.

How had she let herself become like this. For how long had she been this brutal, uncaring statue of a woman. Since her mother’s death, she supposed. It was as if her only desire since that day had been to inflict the pain she felt upon others. To radiate her own suffering in an attempt to bring the world down to her level.

Diana’s mother would have hated her.

And who would blame her? Everyone else did. No, that was self-pitying  _ nonsense. _ Diana had friends,  _ somehow, _ even if there was an impenetrable barrier separating them, a pedestal that Diana had placed herself upon from which she gazed down at those she considered unworthy of the affection that was supposed to be her family creed.

People didn’t  _ hate _ Diana, they just didn’t want to be around her, like how Diana hadn’t wanted to be around Chloe. All Diana did was spitefully hurt others in order to fill the void in her chest, so people kept her at a distance, and she pretended that she was happier that way.

Well that wasn’t going to happen anymore. Diana was going to be a better person. She was going to be a person who built others up. A person who made others happy. Like Shiny Bloody Chariot, if she had to. Or like… 

Akko.

Akko, who had become one of her closest friends within just two short weeks. Akko, who loved her friends so clearly and openly. Akko, who had forgiven her  _ shameful, awful _ message without Diana having so much as offered an apology.

But Diana couldn’t  _ be _ Akko. She had even told her how envious she was of the qualities Akko had which had endeared her so much to Diana in the first place. Akko made friends easily. Akko was effortlessly funny. Akko was forgiving.

Diana was none of those things. Diana had three friends, two of whom had been forced to room with her for seven years and had only grown close to her from sheer proximity. Diana had to spend days on end coming up with jokes. Diana was cruel, and spiteful, and  _ still _ hated Andrew Hanbridge for the terrible crime of “growing out of anime.”

Diana knew that if she set herself the goal of replicating those qualities that made Akko so wonderful, she would only fail, and grow more bitter in the process. Diana could never be Akko.

But at the very least, Akko could be where Diana’s long road to improvement began.

This was going to be the single most important piece of writing Diana had constructed in her entire life. It would be perfect—

No. No it would not be perfect. Diana wasn’t perfect, nor was her writing. It would be messy, and flawed, and  _ wrong _ but  _ it would be Diana. _ This would be the first piece of writing that Diana would be able to be truly  _ proud _ of when it was done. Not because it was good or bad, but because it would be  _ sincere. _

Diana settled into her chair, setting her phone on the desk. She would sprint for fifteen minutes. Then, if she wasn’t done, she would do so again. And again. And as many times as was necessary until she was  _ finished. _

Diana grabbed a sheet of file paper from her desk drawer, and set it in front of her. Her eyes locked on her pen. Her heart froze in her chest as she stared at it. Could she truly use her pen for something like this? If Diana wished to press forwards with becoming a newer, better person, would it not be best to discard the pen in the past where it belonged? Not to destroy it, certainly, but keep it stored away, as an heirloom of sorts? Not a word she had ever written with that pen had been worth reading, after all.

But who was to say she couldn’t start now?

Did becoming a new person mean that Diana had to discard every part of the person she was? Was there nothing of value that could be salvaged from the mess of a human she was at present?

Or perhaps, not at  _ present, _ but in the  _ past. _ That pen had been her mother’s final gift, given to her when Diana had informed her of her budding interest in writing. She had been so excited to see Diana acquiring a hobby. She had so dearly wished to see the first thing Diana wrote. She never had the chance.

Diana didn’t hate the girl who had received that pen. Diana wanted that girl to help her write, to lend her her voice when Diana was so unsure of her own.

She lifted the pen from its case, uncapping it with reverential care, as always.

She lowered it to the page.

_ Dear Akko, _

_ I’m sorry. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(((


	15. Fiction

**LadyBeatrice** : Dear Akko, I’m sorry.

**LadyBeatrice** : This will likely be a long message, so I wish to start by fully clarifying what it is that I am sorry for, as well as baring to you the ugly nature that lay beneath my actions. I beg your forgiveness, knowing that I do not deserve it, but that it has already been given. You are truly a kind soul, Akko. I’m sorry.

**LadyBeatrice** : Akko, my comment on your story was petty, cruel, and deeply, deeply unfair. Unfair to you as a writer, but on a more important level, unfair to you as a person. There is no excusing or justifying leaving such a message, and there never was. I could go through each of my critiques line by line and break down to their barest essence how each was more needlessly vicious than the last, but I have no doubt that you are already well aware, and have no wish to revisit them.

**LadyBeatrice** : What I  _ do _ wish to apologise to you for, as fully and clearly as I can, is my  _ motivation _ behind such viciousness, for it is so much worse than even the actions it inspired.

**LadyBeatrice** : I will tell you truly Akko, I wished for my comment to hurt you. There is no gentle way to say it, no way to express my heart to you in a way that does not make me  _ hate _ myself. I knew by the first paragraph of your story that I did not like it, and yet I read the entire piece  _ solely _ so that I would feel some twisted sense of  _ justification _ when I left such a cruel review.

**LadyBeatrice** : I told myself, even as I wrote, that I was merely giving feedback, merely pointing out your flaws that you might improve as a writer. This was a  _ lie. _ I knew that it was a lie at the time, and I am naming it for the lie that it is now.

**LadyBeatrice** : I had no interest in seeing you improve as a writer. I had no interest in seeing you learn to express your love for Shiny Chariot in a way that would touch others hearts, as great writing  _ should _ do. I had no interest in the clear love that you showed for a show that is so dear to my heart, even though that love has brought us together in such a profound way.

**LadyBeatrice** : My only interest was to hurt you.

**LadyBeatrice** : I wish you would not forgive me for that.

**LadyBeatrice** : That isn’t entirely true. I  _ desperately _ wish that you will forgive me. Even as I write now, I am almost paralysed with fear that you will read this message and want nothing more to do with me. I am scared, Akko. I want us to remain friends. I want it more than you can possibly understand.

**LadyBeatrice** : The short time that I have spent as your friend has been one of the happiest periods of my life, Akko. I am sure you will not believe that you have had such an impact, but it is true, and I mean every word.

**LadyBeatrice** : It terrifies me.

**LadyBeatrice** : I hurt you, and I did so  _ purely _ to fill a spiteful void within my soul that thrives on placing myself above others. Akko, I  _ revelled _ in seeing how poorly your story was doing. I believed myself to be above you. That because my stories were more successful, more loved, that I was a better  _ person _ than you. This couldn’t have been further from the truth.

**LadyBeatrice** : And to  _ deepen _ my shame, I must admit that I maintained this internal sense of superiority until the very moment I discovered you were a talented animator. I hope you now understand the depths of the rot within my heart, Akko. I believed you to be an inferior person until I learned that you had some form of talent that made you “worthy” in my eyes. I cannot truly express in words how much resentment I feel towards myself for that belief.

**LadyBeatrice** : You are not a worthy person because you are a talented animator, Akko. You are a wonderful person because of the joy within your heart.

**LadyBeatrice** : You are a wonderful person because you share that joy with all those fortunate enough to connect with that blessed heart of yours. You are a radiant beacon of warmth, and I am lucky to have found myself bathed within your glow. Thank you, Akko.

**LadyBeatrice** : And I speak not only for myself here. I have never met a single one of your friends, yet I can tell that you extend them the same warmth by how fondly you speak of each of them, your gratefulness and your love for them which you express so freely and openly, as if being so caring and vulnerable were the easiest thing in the world.

**LadyBeatrice** : I said to you the other night that I was jealous of your humour. That remains true, but it is your vulnerability which I truly admire. I am a guarded person, Akko. You have likely seen more of my true nature in these past weeks than friends or family who have known me for years.

**LadyBeatrice** : Even as I write this message, I do so with trembling fingers, a shaking pen. I know that I am placing my heart entirely within your hands, yet I must trust that you will not destroy it, nor flinch away from its true, blackened nature.

**LadyBeatrice** : I must apologise again. I often turn to such needlessly poetic phrasings when I am indulging myself with a spot of self-loathing. A negative habit, I know. I am working on it, I promise.

**LadyBeatrice** : Furthermore, I would like to apologise for my flippant refusal to even acknowledge my shameful comments to you until now. Drawing attention to them with such blase statements as “I am aware we didn’t get along at first,” while using the social pressure of our friendship to prevent you from addressing the cruel way in which I treated you must have been painful to endure, and I am once again sorry.

**LadyBeatrice** : I’m sorry, during the writing process of this message I have been re-reading our conversations to search for further examples of the way I have mistreated you and… Akko you are such a wonderful friend to me. The joy I experience from merely reading over our past conversations manages to put a smile on my face even now, Akko.

**LadyBeatrice** : I don’t want to lose this friendship.

**LadyBeatrice** : I don’t know what I would do if I did.

**LadyBeatrice** : And it is  _ maddening _ to me because I have done nothing to deserve it. Our relationship began with cruelty from my end, and I terrify myself with the thought that in almost any other scenario we would have simply become two people who hated one another, and not two close friends as we are now.

**LadyBeatrice** : A twisted part of me even feels grateful towards Barbara for hurting you. For being the catalyst that sparked us to grow closer to one another.

**LadyBeatrice** : Akko, what kind of person feels happy that their friend was hurt?

**LadyBeatrice** : Am I broken?

**LadyBeatrice** : And to make matters worse, I had the indecency to consider myself above Barbara. To take the moral high ground in our conversation, as if her awfulness towards you somehow absolved me of my own, simply because her language was more coarse.

**LadyBeatrice** : Akko, I don’t know when I became this girl, but I don’t like her.

**ShinyAkko** : Beatrice?

**ShinyAkko** : Hey are you ok??

Shit. Shit shit shit fuck shit shit fuck  _ shit. _ Oh god what the hell was going on her phone was blowing up with like thirty messages and it was 2 am and  _ Beatrice was feeling like shit and Akko didn’t know what to do. _

Akko scrolled through Beatrice’s messages, each one feeling like a fresh kick to the stomach. Guess that answered the question of Beatrice being depressed then. But more to the point  _ what should she say!? _ She needed to say  _ something, _ Beatrice was upset and rambling and kinda baring her soul to Akko and Akko needed to be able to tell her that it was OK and she didn’t hate her and she didn’t want Beatrice to hate herself cause it was scaring the absolute hell out of her and—

Akko stood up, clutching her phone so tightly that the cracks on the screen seemed to extend and warp as she paced around her room in the dark, avoiding the mounds of clothes and her chair on autopilot. Right. Plan. What should she say first? Should she say that she didn’t care about Beatrice’s comment? Well, no, that was a lie, she  _ did _ still care about it and it  _ had  _ hurt her a lot, but should she just lie so Beatrice would stop beating herself up? Would that be the right thing to do?

_ LadyBeatrice is typing…  _

The bottom dropped out of Akko’s gut.

**LadyBeatrice** : My apologies, I had hoped to finish my message for you to see in the morning, but I repeatedly became distracted and wished to add more as I was typing. Would you like to wait for me to finish typing my full message before you respond? So you have the full context of the weight of the callousness of my actions towards you.

**ShinyAkko** : No!

**ShinyAkko** : Please stop typing!

**LadyBeatrice** : Alright.

Akko’s breath came in quick, short bursts. OK at least Beatrice was gonna stop saying awful shit about herself now, should give Akko a moment to think and—wait  _ fuck _ she was gonna think Akko was mad at her now cause she’d been so snappy. God  _ dammit _ why did she keep making things worse?

**ShinyAkko** : Sorry I’m just.

**ShinyAkko** : Trying to catch up and I dunno what the fuck to say.

**ShinyAkko** : I just don’t wanna see you hurting yourself like this.

Should she apologise now? Would that help? Or would they just get into some ridiculous argument about which was worse and Beatrice would just insult herself some more even though mocking someone’s depression was  _ obviously _ worse than mocking their writing.

Akko hopped from foot to foot, her thumb hovering paralysed over the keypad. Beatrice wasn’t typing anymore. Was that a good thing? Was she waiting for Akko to say something, or just taking the “stop typing” thing a bit too literally?

Or was she doing something really stupid.

**ShinyAkko** : Beatrice are you still there???

**LadyBeatrice** : Yes.

Akko let out her breath explosively. Thank fucking god.

Right. Fuck it. Honesty. It might not work and it might make things worse but so might everything else and at least she was gonna  _ try _ and do the right thing.

**ShinyAkko** : Look I’m not gonna lie and say your comment didn’t upset me, cause it did, a lot.

**ShinyAkko** : And yeah it kinda sucked that we just ignored it the whole time.

**ShinyAkko** : And like, I “got over it” and I still love talking to you and being your friend but it was always  _ there _ y’know?

**ShinyAkko** : But honestly?

Akko took a deep breath.

**ShinyAkko** : I’m just really happy you apologised.

**ShinyAkko** : Like seriously it matters more to me that you said sorry than it ever mattered that you hurt me in the first place.

**LadyBeatrice** : Akko, you don’t need to lie to spare my feelings. I know that a mere apology cannot undo the harm of the act that required said apology, it merely acts as a single step on the road to atonement.

Akko paced around in a small circle. Beatrice wasn’t  _ wrong _ but Akko didn’t know how to express that that wasn’t the entire story either, that this apology meant so much more than something like the empty one Barbara had given her.

**ShinyAkko** : Idk, not exactly? It’s different, you  _ mean _ it.

**ShinyAkko** : Fuck, Beatrice, you mean it  _ way too much. _

**ShinyAkko** : It scares the shit out of me to hear you talk about yourself like that.

**LadyBeatrice** : I’m sorry. I should have kept my message focused on the unfairness of my actions towards you, and not derailed such an important topic with my self-pity.

**ShinyAkko** : This is what I mean!

**LadyBeatrice** : Sorry.

Akko tugged at her hair. She was just making it fucking worse. Served her right for thinking she could be anything more than a shitty friend.

No, this wasn’t the time to get mad at herself. Beatrice was hurting, and if Akko was gonna stop being a shitty friend anytime soon, then the  _ least _ she could do was do her absolute best to help her out.

**ShinyAkko** : Look Beatrice, I get that you’re upset with yourself.

**ShinyAkko** : Or like, way more than that.

**ShinyAkko** : And I understand, cause I’m mad at myself too, OK?

_ LadyBeatrice is typing…  _

**ShinyAkko** : Lemme finish!

**ShinyAkko** : I know you’re gonna say I’ve been lovely, or that any of the times I mocked or insulted you were “just jokes” or “only fair” cause of your comment but like,

**ShinyAkko** : They weren’t.

**ShinyAkko** : It was never OK for me to laugh at you the way I did.

**ShinyAkko** : And I’m really sorry for the thing where I wrote you into my fic, and mocked you for being sad, or laughed at you for being so formal or whatever.

**ShinyAkko** : It was a shitty thing to do and you  _ didn’t _ deserve it.

**ShinyAkko** : I was gonna apologise to you about it tomorrow, but you beat me to it lol.

**ShinyAkko** : I guess it’s “tomorrow” now anyway but like.

**ShinyAkko** : Sorry I’m kinda rambling.

**ShinyAkko** : I don’t really know, I have so much that I wanna say but I’m so scared of making things even worse like I always do with you and I feel like shit because you’ve been such an amazing friend the whole time and I keep upsetting you and I don’t  _ wanna _ upset you cause I fucking love talking to you and like, that time we watched Chariot together was legit one of the best days of my whole life and that sounds so lame when I type it out but I don’t fuckin care it’s true.

**ShinyAkko** : So I’m sorry. I wanna do better. You deserve it.

_ LadyBeatrice is typing…  _

Akko’s heart pounded in her throat. Shit that was an overstep. A bad one. And the way this conversation was going Beatrice was going to just say something like, “no I don’t,” and then after she’d wised up she would think Akko was a clingy weirdo.

**LadyBeatrice** : Thank you, Akko.

**LadyBeatrice** : I feel the same way.

A couple of teardrops landed on Akko’s screen.

**LadyBeatrice** : I cherish our friendship, and I wish for nothing more than to have many more experiences like last Sunday night.

**LadyBeatrice** : But I’m afraid.

**LadyBeatrice** : I’m afraid of the callous person I’ve become. I’m afraid of the way I look down on others.

**LadyBeatrice** : I’m afraid of hurting you again.

**ShinyAkko** : I trust that you won’t.

**ShinyAkko** : And maybe that’s dumb of me but I don’t care.

**ShinyAkko** : Honestly I’m not even worried about you hurting me I’m worried about-

Akko stopped, deleting the message before she could send it. There was so much,  _ so much _ she wanted to say. How sorry she was that Beatrice hated herself this way. How it was tearing up Akko’s heart to know that Beatrice had been driven to say such awful things about herself because of  _ her. _ How she just wanted Beatrice to be happy, and to see herself as the wonderful friend that Akko saw.

But she didn’t know  _ how. _ She just wanted to wave a wand and tap Beatrice’s head from however many miles away and make her feel better.

She wanted to make Beatrice feel the same happiness and warmth that Akko felt when she talked to her.

**ShinyAkko** : I’m not afraid of you, Beatrice. You’re my friend.

_ LadyBeatrice is typing… _

_ LadyBeatrice is typing… _

_ LadyBeatrice is typing… _

**LadyBeatrice** : Can we call?

Akko tapped the icon without a moment’s hesitation.

Beatrice answered before the first ring finished sounding.

“Hi?” Akko said.

“Hello,” Beatrice answered quietly.

A moment of silence rang out. Akko could feel her heart pounding in her ears, could hear Beatrice’s strained breaths. Had she been crying? That wouldn’t really be a surprise.

“Are you alright?” Akko asked as tenderly as she could.

“I’m… better,” Beatrice’s voice came unsurely through her phone’s speaker. “Thank you, Akko. The kindness you have shown me tonight means more than you can know.”

Her voice was really pretty. Maybe at another time Akko would have giggled at the fact it sounded like the  _ exact _ posh English accent she’d imagined Beatrice as having, but… no, she couldn’t even laugh. It was just so  _ her. _

“Your voice is nice,” Akko almost whispered. Wait shit did she say that out loud?

“Yours is lovely as well,” Beatrice replied, “much softer than I expected.”

“Oh that’s just cause I don’t wanna wake up my neighbour, I’m loud as hell normally,” Akko said with a quiet chuckle.

Beatrice laughed softly down the line. Akko wanted to hear that sound again and again. “That makes a little more sense.”

The silence returned.

“I’m sorry,” Akko blurted.

“I’ve already forgiven you,” Beatrice said. “And you have already proven yourself more than worthy of my trust. I asked for you not to mock me, and you haven’t broken that promise even once. I have no reason to doubt your commitment to kindness, Akko.”

“I know,” Akko said, feeling a little flustered, “but I wanted to say it anyway. I wanted you to hear it from me. And I want you to hear this too.” Akko took a deep breath. “You’re a great friend, Beatrice.”

Beatrice’s breath caught audibly. “Akko, can you do something for me?”

“Sure,” Akko said without hesitation.

Beatrice chuckled. “At least permit me to give my request before you accept. This is… a large step for me.”

“OK, OK, I’ll wait.” Akko giggled.

Beatrice paused for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts. “Akko, there has been one particular aspect of our friendship that has always felt… wrong. A certain incompleteness that robs your heartfelt words of the impact they deserve. I wish to amend that now.”

Akko waited, listening to the sound of Beatrice’s breath quickening, the sound of light thumps that could have been her standing or her fidgeting with something on her desk or anything really. The sound of her breath slowing, before she spoke with conviction.

“Akko, LadyBeatrice is my screen name. It is not my real name.”

A moment froze in time, stretching out to eternity.

“I would like you to call me Diana.”

Warmth blossomed in Akko’s chest, a grin starting to split her face. “I think I can do that, Diana.”

“Thank you, Akko,” Diana replied. Akko could hear the tenderness and vulnerability in her voice even through her crappy phone speaker. She felt like her heart was going to burst.

“I can change your name on our server to Diana, if you want?” Akko asked, cradling her phone against her cheek.

“No,” Diana replied. “My online persona and myself are one and the same, the rehabilitation of one necessitates the rehabilitation of the other.” She trailed off. “Sorry, rather pretentious of me.”

Akko laughed softly. “Nah, I get it, you don’t have to explain if it’s what feels right for you.”

“It does, yes,” Diana said. “I just… wanted to hear my name in your voice. Hearing you call me ‘Beatrice’ had become almost unbearable.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Akko said, feeling as if her giddy smile had become permanently etched onto her face. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Do not feel like you need to return the favour,” Diana said quickly. “I do not wish for you to feel pressured.”

“Huh? Nah, don’t worry Akko’s my actual name,” Akko said with a laugh. “Short for Atsuko, but no one calls me that except my mom when she’s mad.”

“Ah, I understand.” A pause. “…Does this mean you  _ actually _ used your own name for your self-insert character?” Diana asked.

“I, uh, may or may not have done that, yeah,” Akko admitted.

“Unbelievable.” Diana tutted.

“Dunno why you’re surprised.” Akko giggled. “Oh actually, did I tell you I’m trying to write again? I’m getting a friend to help me, she’s a really good beta reader!”

“That’s wonderful, Akko!” Diana said and oh my god hearing that in her voice was like ambrosia trickling out of her phone and straight into Akko’s ears. “I’m tentatively excited to see what a well-written work with your level of passion would look like.”

Akko chuckled nervously. “I’m not so sure about the ‘well-written’ part just yet, but I’m working on it.”

“And that is the most important thing,” Diana said.

A moment of comfortable silence passed.

“I would like to reiterate my apologies for the comment I left on your story,” Diana began formally, “and to do so without the charged language which caused you such consternation earlier. Akko, the quality of your writing matters absolutely nothing to me, and it never should have. Writing makes you happy, and  _ that  _ is what’s important. I’m delighted to see you writing again, regardless of how good the resultant work is.”

“Thanks, Diana.” Akko could feel the tears falling down her cheeks, and was momentarily grateful that Diana couldn’t see—actually screw it, honesty had got her this far, right? “You know you just made me cry a little?”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” Diana deadpanned.

“No like, in a good way!” Akko giggled down the line.

“I’m aware,” Diana responded, a cheeky lilt to her voice.

Akko gasped. “You… You… You! Messing with me!? I can’t believe you!  _ How _ are you so damn funny!?”

“Why thank you, Akko,” Diana said. “I would curtsy, but I’m afraid the gesture would be somewhat meaningless over a voice call.”

Akko bit down the immediate temptation to ask for video. Much as it would be  _ adorable _ to see Diana curtsying over a joke, it’d clearly been a big deal for her just to tell Akko her name, never mind anything more. “OK it’d be hilarious anyway,” Akko said with a short laugh.

Akko heard the dragging noise of a chair being pulled back, then the swooshing of fabric. “There, one invisible curtsy, as requested,” Diana said, gentle mirth hiding behind her words.

Akko burst out laughing. OK, OK, quiet. The walls weren’t  _ that _ thin but the last thing she wanted was Lotte knocking at her door to shut her up when she was having… a good time.

A really good time.

“Hey, Diana?” Akko started quietly, enjoying how sweet her name sounded coming from her lips.

“Yes, Akko?” Diana responded.

“Thanks so much. For everything,” Akko whispered.

“You’re very welcome, and thank you too, Akko,” Diana whispered back.

“Are we OK?” Akko asked, suddenly feeling very tiny, calling out across the void from her small student dorm.

“I… think so, yes,” Diana answered her call. “It is as I said earlier, I would like nothing more than to continue being your friend.”

Ah fuck, was she crying  _ again? _ Or had she just not stopped? “I’m just happy we can go back to what we had. I loved that.”

“No, Akko,” Diana said. “We’re going to move forward. I have made a commitment to self-improvement, and one of the most important aspects of that is that I make a serious effort to be a better friend.”

“I keep telling you you’re a good friend,” Akko chuckled. “But honestly, I agree. I’m gonna be a better friend too! I keep saying this, but you deserve it. Only my best from now on!” She stopped and saluted. “I just saluted, figured you’d wanna know after your invisible curtsy thing.”

Diana laughed, bright and clear, a melodious warmth to her voice that made Akko feel like she was about to float up and bonk her head off the ceiling. “And… I trust that you will tell me if I step astray?”

“Of course,” Akko reassured her. “Same for you with me, right?”

“Naturally,” Diana said. “…I’m glad we had this conversation, Akko.”

“Me too,” Akko said, letting her eyes slide shut peacefully. And stay there. “OK this is gonna seem really rude after how lovely this was but I’m  _ so _ tired.” Akko said, before tenderly adding, “Are you gonna be alright?”

“Yes, thank you Akko,” Diana said, clearly stifling a yawn herself. “You’ve been more help than you can possibly know. Rest well.”

“Mhm.” Akko slipped back into bed, cradling her phone against herself as she wrapped the covers over her shoulders. “Hey, Diana…” she began, her voice already starting to trail off, “wanna watch some more Chariot on Sunday?”

“I would love nothing more, Akko,” Diana said.

“Yayyy,” Akko murmured. “G’night, Diana.”

“Good night, Akko. And sweet dreams.”

“You too.”

* * *

Diana stared at her laptop screen. And stared some more. It was almost beyond parody, really. She’d read about this moment more times than she could count. She’d written it fourteen times herself.

Fiction wasn’t supposed to be reality.

So why was it that as she heard the sounds of Akko slowly drifting to sleep, the only thing she could think to say was,

_ “Oh.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :).
> 
> With that, we've reached a kind of informal "End of Part 1" for this fic, and this chapter took a HELL of a lot out of me so I'm expecting chapter releases to slow down from the weekly schedule we've been at for the last while. I definitely won't be dropping the fic of course but expect every two or three weeks for the next while as I figure out where the hell I'm going with "Part 2."
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who's been reading and enjoying and commenting so far, on here and elsewhere. It means a lot to me to see this fic reach people cause it's very personal for me so seeing that resonate with others is far more than I could ever have hoped to ask for. Thank you thank you thank you. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you all enjoy what's to follow!


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